"Nothing that shows," I said.

"The course of true love," Healy said, "never did run smooth."

CHAPTER 42

I was back and forth between Boston and Port City so much I felt like a carrier pigeon. We were back there again, with Mei Ling, in the Puffin' Muffin, on a rainy Saturday and I was tired of it. I was tired of the drive. I was tired of not working on the house in Concord. I was tired of the rain. I was tired of being about a step and a half behind. I was tired of not seeing Susan. I was tired of Hawk and Vinnie following me around. I missed Pearl.

"Hawk, you and Mei Ling work Chinatown. Door to door, anybody who'll talk. Vinnie, you do the waterfront."

"And the Death Dragons?" Vinnie said.

"Screw the Death Dragons," I said.

"Do you really think this is the way to find Miss Colby?" Mei Ling said.

"No," I said.

"But it's the best I can think of."

"Gimme Vinnie," Hawk said.

I stared at him. I'd never heard him ask for help.

"I want somebody looking out for Missy," he said.

"Case I have to beat up the Death Dragons."

"Never thought of that," I said.

"I know," Hawk said.

"I am not afraid," Mei Ling said.

"I know," I said.

"Vinnie?"

"Sure," Vinnie said. He was eating a pumpkin muffin.

"Okay, I'm going over to the theater, ask the same people the same questions, again. We can meet in the theater lobby at noon.

Compare notes, see who's found out the least."

Hawk smiled widely.

He said, "Nice to see you so upbeat."

"If you see any Death Dragons, shoot them," I said.

"I'm tired of them too." They got up and left, Mei Ling walking close beside Hawk, her head not nearly level with his shoulder. I paid the bill and went to the theater and began again to round up the usual suspects.

At ten minutes to twelve I was in the big empty conference room with Deirdre Thompson and her chest, which she kept pointing at me. She was wearing jeans and a powder blue tee shirt that advertised the Casablanca Restaurant. The neck of the tee shirt had been cut with scissors into a low scoop that bared most of her shoulders, and barely maintained itself over her cleavage.

"Jocelyn ever express a romantic interest in Christopholous?" I said.

"Oh, hell," Deirdre said.

"Probably. If you've got a testicle, Jocelyn will sooner or later express a romantic interest."

"Nicely put," I said.

"Yeah, well, she's a piece of work," Deirdre said.

"God, I hope you can get her back."

"Do you remember whether she specifically was interested in Christopholous?" I said.

"You think he's grabbed her?" Deirdre said.

I took in some air and let it out, slowly.

"No. Did she?"

"Yeah. One of the things about Jocelyn. She likes, ah, men, who, ah,…" Deirdre made a kind of rolling gesture with her hands.

"Authority figures. That's what I was trying to say. She's hot for authority figures."

"Like Christopholous."

"Sure. She was hot for Jimmy for a while. But he wasn't interested. Don't tell him you got this from me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Everybody knew about it and I think it embarrassed him. Hell, nobody thought anything about it, you know? Like, that's Jocelyn.

She's a hell of a lot of fun, you know, so you just buy the package the men, the drinking, the mess in the dressing room, we all got quirks."

"A mess in the dressing room?"

"Yeah. Like that's a clue?"

"Tell me about that."

"Well, you ever see a theater dressing room, it's not usually like in the movies." She grinned and pantomimed fixing her hair in a mirror, and did a stage manager voice. "

"Five minutes, Miss Garbo." You know. It's like the changing room at a discount store.

Everybody's jammed together, in their skivvies, getting out of one thing and into another. It's a mess, and if someone is sloppy, it's that much more of a mess. It is, in fact, a pain in the ass. But Jocelyn…" Deirdre shrugged.

"She could never keep it neat.

She's clean, and she's neat about herself, but she's a slob. You should see her place."

"Her apartment?"

"Yeah, looks like the day after the last day of Pompeii: bed's a jumble, clothes everywhere, makeup on the floor. It's hysterical."

"What would you think if you went in there and found it neat?"

Deirdre laughed.

"I'd think her mother came for a visit. Except I know her mother's dead."

"Father?" I said.

"Father took off when she was a little girl," Deirdre said.

"I don't think she ever heard from him. I don't think she knows if he's dead or alive. And she says she doesn't care."

I nodded.

"Maybe she does," I said.

CHAPTER 43

At lunch we compared findings.

"Nobody in Chinatown will talk to us," Hawk said.

"You feel it's a racial thing?" I said.

"Naw," Hawk said.

"I think they seen me with you."

I nodded. Mei Ling was looking approvingly at Hawk. Vinnie was spreading cream cheese on a bagel. He seemed entirely relaxed, but as always, no matter what else he was doing, he was looking around the room.

"According to one of her friends, Jocelyn had a crush on Christopholous."

"Which he hasn't mentioned to you."

"Correct. And according to her friend, she was a legendary slob."

"So?"

"So when I searched her room it was ready for inspection."

"Who the friend?" Hawk said.

"Deirdre Thompson."

"Our Lady of the Boobs," he said.

Mei Ling blushed slightly and giggled.

"You think maybe Jocelyn cleaned up her room because she knew it might be searched?"

"Maybe," I said.

"Do you mean to say she knew she would be kidnapped?" Mei Ling said. She looked as outraged as it was possible for Mei Ling to look. Which was not very.

"Maybe," I said.

"Would you be willing to gain illegal entry to Jocelyn's apartment with me?" I said to Mei Ling.

She looked startled and then looked at Hawk.

"He want you to look, 'cause you a woman," Hawk said.

"Might see things he didn't."

"I hope you don't find that sexist," I said.

Mei Ling smiled.

"No, sir," she said.

"Women often see things that men have missed."

"Good," I said.

"Let's go."

Mei Ling looked at Hawk again.

"Will you come with us?"

"Drive you over, Missy. Wait right outside."

I left enough money on the table to cover lunch. Vinnie lingered a moment while he made a cream cheese sandwich with his second bagel, wrapped it in a paper napkin, and stuck it in his pocket.

"Be glad when this is over," he said.

"Go someplace and get some actual, fit for human consumption, chop."

Jocelyn had a basement apartment, down three concrete stairs on the side of a three-story clapboard building near the water. There was a black pipe railing on the stairs, and heavy screening on the windows. The door was painted black.