probable lunatic. Finally, it had been the middle of the night.
"How could Eva possibly have spotted such a detail?" he demanded to know.
"That is the most clever thing," Herbert said in admiration. "She was right there by the stoop. Not three feet away. They passed right by her and up the stairs."
"That could be dangerous," T.S. said firmly. "I told you to warn them."
"No, not dangerous at all." Herbert broke out in a wide smile. "She was dressed most convincingly as a bag lady. I did not even recognize her myself. In fact"—he began to laugh, caught his breath and went on—"she is so convincing that the man in the cashmere coat gives her a dollar bill!"
"Okay, okay," T.S. conceded. "Eva makes a great bag lady and she sees the tail end of an eagle tattoo on this man's arm. What next?"
"The man never leaves the building," Herbert explains. "He is still in there."
"Which man?" T.S. asked again.
"The Eagle. The cashmere coat does leave, only this time he is not with a blonde and not with the tall black man. He is with a cheap prostitute. On this point, everyone agrees. She is tall and dresses not very nice."
"Let me fill in the rest," T.S. said. He put his hands against his head and shut his eyes as if he were struggling to foresee the future. "She was wearing a wig, hair piled high. Probably spike heels. She's black and wears mini-dresses that set off the color of her skin. The dresses don't cover very much. She favors torn stockings and long gloves. And she's definitely getting ready to go to work along Tenth Avenue."
"That's right!" Herbert confirmed with keen admiration. "Very good. You have met the lady before?"
"That is no lady. That is Miss Leteisha Swann."
Auntie Lil was staring at him strangely. "How do you know the name of that… woman of the night, Theodore?"
He held up a hand and winked. "I can do my own detecting, thank you. How I know is immaterial. That I do know is my little secret."
Auntie Lil looked two parts scandalized and one part annoyed. T.S. loved it.
Herbert coughed discreetly and murmured, "If I may continue… Mr. Cashmere Coat leaves with Miss Leteisha Swann in his silver car and all is relatively quiet." He paused to consult his notes. "People come and go, but we have ascertained that they live there. Four of the residents have roles in nearby Broadway shows. They arrived in stage makeup at appropriate times on foot. Tonight, we will follow them and confirm."
"More working actors than I thought," T.S. admitted. "When did Cashmere Coat return?"
"Not until three o'clock in the morning. By himself. He enters for a few minutes and when he comes out, he has something like a book in his hand. Franklin has taken over the surveillance and was across the street, so he could not see for sure. Then Franklin breaks the rules."
"Fortunately," Auntie Lil interrupted.
"Yes. Most fortuitous," Herbert agreed. "When Cashmere Coat does not get into the Cadillac and instead starts to walk towards Times Square on foot, Franklin follows him. He knows the man has been in and out all night and sees this as suspicious. The silver car trails the man by half a block and Franklin follows behind the car. Cashmere Coat is walking and looking around, obviously seeking out someone. He stops and has a few words with the cashier of a not-very-nice movie theater at the corner of Forty-Fifth Street and Eighth Avenue, then continues on foot. He looks in doorways and down side streets. Finally, he cuts across Shubert Alley and enters a building at 1515 Broadway. He is inside for twenty minutes and when he comes out, he does not have the book-like object with him. He gets in the silver car and it drives away. Franklin returns to his post."
"1515 Broadway?" T.S. said. "That's the same address as the man who owns the building. He has a company there called Broadway Backers."
"Good," Auntie Lil declared firmly. "The game is afoot. You go to 1515 Broadway and I will go find Detective Santos and tell him that The Eagle is in Emily's building."
T.S. looked at her skeptically. "Santos will not be in the mood to hear it."
Auntie Lil shrugged. "What else can we do? We can't let The Eagle get away."
"He won't believe you," T.S. insisted. "He had the apartment checked. Someone else is living there now."