Deluthe was on his way out the door to fetch the orders from the delicatessen, and now the interrogation would begin. Mallory raised the volume on the intercom. The sound system was intended to eavesdrop on one voice at a time, not six conversations. She closed her eyes to all distractions, then sifted through the babble, seeking out one man’s voice and then the other’s.

How did Charles know the plots of her westerns?

She listened a while longer, concentrating on a single voice. Charles had finished telling Greta how Far Trails had ended, and now he was asking her questions about Sparrow’s movements.

Mallory shifted her attention to Riker’s cubicle, where he was seated with another whore. A few minutes into this conversation, she knew he was trying to solve the wrong murder.

‘Markowitz didn’t know Sparrow was tight with the kid, he just wanted a pair of eyes on the street,’ said Belle. ‘You know, like if she saw the kid – ’

‘A little blond girl,’ said Riker, attempting to speed up the interview, for he already knew this part of the story. He had been the one who had approached Sparrow for information, but Lou Markowitz had put up the money.

‘Uh, huh. The cops were really hot to find that girl. Offered Sparrow cash – not chump change either. And then, up front, she got a get-out-of-jail-for-free card, and it was signed by Markowitz himself.’

Riker gave up the idea of moving this woman along any faster. Whatever drug she was doing, it was not laced with speed.

‘So Sparrow started out the day as a hooker,’ said Belle. ‘Then she turned into a snitch that afternoon. And that same night, she was warehousing stolen goods for a ten-year-old thief. So you can see how her career just wasn’t going real well.’

‘Warehousing goods?’ Riker feigned skepticism. He was hoping this was the shipment of VCRs. ‘It’s not like the kid was ever more than a small-time thief.’

‘Hey, who’s telling this story? Well, I’m walking down the street with Sparrow. She’s already decided to blow off Markowitz. And along comes the kid wheeling a grocery cart full of VCRs. Brand-new, still in the cartons. I ask her if she wants me to read her a story, and she says no. Well, that was a first. The kid looks to Sparrow and says she needs a place to stash her stuff.’

And now Riker listened to another version of the great truck robbery. In this one, Kathy took all the credit for the theft.

‘So now the kid wants to change the goods into cash. Tall Sally’s the only fence Sparrow knows, but the kid won’t deal with Sal. Never would say why. So they got another buyer for the VCRs.’

‘Would that buyer be Frankie Delight?’

Belle shrugged off the question. ‘Who the hell knows? I sure don’t. Now what happens at the end of Shadowland?’

Riker knew this book well. It was his personal favorite, and he did not even care about the glaring flaw of long-range shooting in the dark of a moonless night. ‘It ends with an ambush. Forty rustlers are up on the cliffs, guns aimed, waiting for Sheriff Peety to come through the canyon. And he’s got a bad feeling about this trail, like he knows what’s coming, but he’s got no choice. He has to follow the Wichita Kid.’

„Cause that’s his job.’ Belle recited words from the first page of almost every book. ‘His life is the law.’

‘Right. But all he’s got is two six-shooters and no extra bullets. It’s a cloudy night, no stars, not one, and that’s the worst of it for him. He believes he’s never gonna see their lights again. And he’s lost without ‘era – no markers in the sky to help him find his way. So he reins in his horse and sits awhile. He wonders what his life is all about. He’s lost his faith, he’s lost his way. Can’t even see the badge on his chest – it’s so damn dark. The book ends when the sheriff digs in his spurs. He rides into the canyon at a gallop, knowing it’s a trap – a fight he can’t win. The rustlers open fire. He looks up and sees the bright lights of guns firing from every ridge – like stars.’ ‘That’s beautiful,’ said Belle, rising from her chair. Riker nodded to the next woman in line. ‘Your turn.’ The second prostitute’s name was Karina, and she had a few questions of her own. ‘Did I hear right? You talkin’ about Frankie Delight? Whatever happened to him? Not that I care about that squirrelly little bastard. Just curious is all.’ ‘Last time I saw him,’ said Riker, ‘he was toast – dead on a slab in the morgue.’

Mallory’s eyes snapped open. How could Riker know about the murder of Frankie Delight? The drug dealer’s body had been destroyed in the fire. No one could have put a name on that charred corpse.

Crazy Frankie.

She closed her eyes again and called up the jittery image of a drug dealer in a deserted building on Avenue B, a skinny white boy in dreadlocks, ripped jeans and gold chains.

The jewelry? Was that how Riker had identified the body?

She could see the deserted building again, deep in shadow, half the interior walls knocked down and rats everywhere – only one way out. She could pinpoint the moment when Sparrow had realized that Frankie planned to rob her, to take the VCRs without paying. No knives had come out, not yet, but whore and dealer circled round and round.

Unconsciously, Detective Mallory’s hand made the shape of a pistol as Kathy the child drew her pellet gun on the drug dealer. It was happening all over again. Frankie Delight was in her sights when he dropped to one knee, holding his sides because he was laughing so hard it hurt. Pointing to her plastic gun, he giggled out the words, ‘Oh, you’re gonna make a big hole with that sucker.’ He turned to Sparrow, saying, ‘Hey, bitch. Your needles make bigger holes.’ Not done with humiliating a child, he turned back to Kathy as he rose to his feet, still in good humor. ‘You could really mess up a big-assed cockroach with that thing. You shoot that bug in the leg, and he’ll never walk again.’

And Sparrow was laughing, too – when he jammed his knife into her side, then twisted it to rip her up some more.

Oh, the look of surprise in the whore’s eyes.

How Frankie had laughed at the comical sight of Sparrow sliding down the wall, leaving a smear of blood in her slow descent. His laughter had drowned out the screams of a child.

Riker lit Karina’s cigarette. ‘So you’re the one who set up the meeting.’

‘Yeah, Sparrow wanted to unload some VCRs. A little kid ripped ‘em off. Can you beat that? Well, I knew this half-assed drug dealer, the only one who’d deal for goods. Everybody else was cash or nothin’.’

‘Sparrow wanted to swap the VCRs for drugs?’

‘Yeah, but what she really needed was cash. Her rent was way past due. So she figured to get drugs for the VCRs, then change the drugs into money on the street – selling to the Johns.’ Karina exhaled a cloud of smoke. With all the authority of a jailhouse lawyer, she said, ‘That’s twice removed from the truck robbery.’

Riker smiled. It was the first instance ever of laundering illegal proceeds with drug money – very creative.

May smiled at Charles, showing him all her broken teeth and one gold cap. ‘What happened after that ambush in Shadowland?'

‘It’s still going on when the next book opens,’ said Charles. ‘The gunslinger was clear of the canyon before the rustlers opened fire on the man who was chasing him.’

‘Sheriff Peety.’

‘Right. Well, it looks like there’s no way out for the sheriff. He’s almost out of bullets. But then the Wichita Kid turns his horse around and conies riding back into the canyon to save him.’

‘I knew he would,’ said May. ‘But there were forty rustlers up on the ridge. How did Wichita shoot all of them?’

‘Oh, he didn’t shoot any of them. He shot the sheriff.’

May’s head tilted to one side to say, What? And now she leaned far forward, her expression clearly implying, You’re nuts. And aloud she said, with great conviction, ‘Wichita would never do that.’