thumbs-up to Poole, who sat in the Taurus on the corner of School and Washington, when the heels of two palms hit my shoulder and chucked me into the side of the building.
"Out of my way, you fucking derelict."
I turned my head in time to see Chris Mullen walk back through the revolving doors, gesture toward the frozen security guard in my direction, and keep walking toward the elevator bank.
I broke into the stream of pedestrians filling the street, cleared the walkie-talkie from my pocket, and turned it on.
" Poole, Mullen's back."
"Affirmative, Mr. Kenzie. Broussard's contacting Ms. Gennaro as we speak. Turn around, go to your car. Do not blow our covers." I could see his lips move behind his windshield, and then he dropped his walkie-talkie back onto his seat and glared at me.
I turned in the crowd.
A woman with coke-bottle glasses and hair tied back so tightly off her forehead her face looked like a bug's stared up at me.
"Are you some kind of cop?"
I raised a finger to my lips. "Sssh." I put the walkie-talkie back in my trench coat, left her standing there, mouth open, and walked back to my car.
As I opened the trunk, I saw Broussard leaning against the window of Eddie Bauer. He held his hand up by his ear and spoke into his wrist.
I tuned to his channel as I leaned under the open trunk.
"...say again, Miss Gennaro, subject en route. Abort immediately."
I brushed all the eggshell from my beard and put a baseball cap over my head.
"Say again," Broussard whispered. "Abort. Out."
I tossed the trench coat in the trunk, removed my black leather jacket, placed the walkie-talkie in the pocket, and closed the jacket over my soiled T-shirt. I closed the trunk and cut back through the crowds to Eddie Bauer, stared through the window at the mannequins.
"She respond?"
"No," Broussard said.
"Was her walkie-talkie working?"
"Couldn't tell. We have to assume she heard me and clicked off before Mullen could hear it."
"We go up," I said.
"You take a move toward that building, I'll blow your leg off at the knee."
"She's exposed up there. If her walkie-talkie was on the fritz and she didn't hear your-"
"I won't allow you to queer this surveillance just because you're sleeping with her." He came off the window and passed me in a loose, loping, post-jog stride. "She's a professional. Why don't you start acting like one?"
He walked up the street and I looked at my watch: 9:15 A.M.
Mullen had been inside four minutes. Why'd he turn around in the first place? Had Broussard blown the tail?
No. Broussard was too good. I'd only seen him because I knew to look for him, and even then he blended into crowds so well my eyes had skipped over him once before I'd identified him.
I looked at my watch again: 9:16.
If Angie had gotten Broussard's message as soon as he'd realized Mullen was headed back to Devonshire Place, she would have been in the elevators, or possibly have gotten as far as the outside of Mullen's door. She would have turned and headed right for the stairwell. And she'd be down by now.
9:17.
I watched the entrance to Devonshire Place. A pair of young stockbrokers stepped out in shiny Hugo Boss suits, Gucci shoes, and Geoffrey Beene ties, hair so thick with gel it would take a wood-chipper to muss it. They stepped aside for a slim woman in a dark-blue power suit and a matching pair of wafer-thin Revos over her eyes, checked out her ass as she stepped into a taxi.
9:18.
The only way Angie would still be up there was if she'd been forced to hide in Mullen's apartment or if he'd caught her, either inside or at his door.
9:19.
She'd never have been dumb enough to hop back in the elevators if she had, in fact, gotten Broussard's message. Stand there and see the car door open to Chris Mullen on the other side...
Hey, Ange, long time no see.
You too, Chris.
What brings you by my building?
Visiting a friend.
Yeah? Aren't you working that missing girl case?
Why do you have a gun pointed at me, Chris?
9:20.
I glanced across Washington to the corner of School Street.
Poole met my eyes, shook his head very deliberately.
Maybe she had reached the lobby but was being harassed by the security guard.
Miss, hold on. I don't remember seeing you in here before.
I'm new.
I don't think so. His hand goes to the phone, dials 911...