he was wearing a clean shirt and a new baseball hat. He was calmly waving at T.S., an action which, in Herbert Wong's book, qualified as wild gesticulation.
"That's Franklin," T.S. explained. "He's a regular at the soup kitchen. He knows Adelle and the other old actresses quite well. I wonder what he wants with me?"
T.S. soon found out. As they approached, Franklin bent over the small laundry cart he used as a portable storage unit and produced an armful of pocketbooks. For one wild moment, T.S. thought he was trying to sell him one.
"I have her pocketbook," Franklin told T.S. "I have been looking for your aunt so that I could give it to her."
T.S. stared blankly at the jumbled assortment of plastic, leather and straw bags. What in the world was he talking about? Auntie Lil's pocketbook was as big as a Buick and even harder to handle. These were wallets compared to her suitcase-like bag.
"Miss Emily's pocketbook," Franklin explained.
"I thought The Eagle had stolen it." T.S. stared at the bags. Which one was supposed to be Emily's?
"He did," Franklin explained. "But like most pocketbook thieves, he dropped it in a trash can when he was done going through it. I have collected these over the past two days. I suspect that Miss Emily's pocketbook is among them."
"There must be seven bags," T.S. pointed out.
Franklin shrugged apologetically. "There are many pocketbooks thrown in the garbage in this neighborhood. But I have developed an eye for these things. I threw away many more than this. Some had identification that made it clear it was not Miss Emily's. I whittled it down as much as I could. None of these have any identification and they are styles that Miss Emily might choose."
T.S. stared at the homeless man. "You have done a superb job," he admitted. "Auntie Lil will be delighted."
"I want to help," Franklin explained. "I have heard that you and your aunt are going to find Miss Emily's killer. I see many things out here on these streets. It is my job. I am always looking, noticing faces. I believe I could be of help."
"You can help me," Herbert Wong butted in. "I'm chief of surveillance. I could use a good pair of eyes."
Franklin nodded almost imperceptibly. "You will not be sorry," he said solemnly.
"What did you mean, it's your job to look?" T.S. wanted to know.
"I am searching for my friend who saw The Eagle breathing evil on Miss Emily. But much more important to me, I am searching for my little brother," Franklin explained. "That's why I'm here in New York City. I have promised my mamma that I will find him and bring him home to South Carolina. So, you see, I am always looking and watching anyway."
T.S. stood in silence. The man's dedication to his mother made him feel ashamed. Here was Franklin, living on the streets, eating handouts, in a city as foreign to him as Moscow, searching seven million faces in hopes of finding the one that would make his mother smile again. While T.S. could hardly stand to visit his mother once a week at the elder care facility.
On the other hand, T.S. reasoned sensibly, Franklin's mother was probably a whole hell of a lot nicer than his own.
"Excuse me, but I see many old ladies looking our way," Herbert interrupted politely. "In front of that church over there. I must surmise that the edifice is St. Barnabas."
T.S. squinted in the bright autumn sun. "You bet. And those old ladies are our other eyes. We might as well plunge in before the kitchen opens and we lose them to lunch. You come, too, Franklin. You're part of the team now."
They approached the long line waiting patiently in front of St. Barnabas. T.S. had not wanted to go inside and face questions from Fran or Father Stebbins, so he was perfectly content to plot outside on the sidewalk. He gathered Adelle and the other old actresses together after they had extracted promises that they would be let back in line at their regular spots. Together, he and Herbert Wong explained their task: for lack of a better plan, they were going to watch Emily's building and take turns following everyone who entered or left. Herbert had the master notebookâdescriptions and destination addresses would be given to him. In this way, they hoped to determine who was a regular tenant, who was suspicious and who might be able to tell them more about Emily.