KevinByrne reached out and touched a finger to the dead man's lips. He closed hiseyes, listened, and the dead man spoke.

Chapter 10

    Jessicaand Byrne spent the next hour separately canvassing the neighborhood for asecond time. They learned a great deal about cheating spouses, lazy landlords,illegal parking, possible international drug cartels, alien invasions, moreillegal parking, and - a fan favorite - government conspiracies. In other words,nothing.

    Atthree o'clock Jessica met Byrne back at the corner of Fifth and Federal tocompare notes.

    'Jess,'Byrne said, pointing down the street.

    Jessicaturned and saw two figures sitting in a vacant lot, sandwiched between a pairof old row houses. The detectives were being observed.

    Jessicaand Byrne walked a half-block up Federal. David Albrecht, who had just returnedfrom getting some high-angle shots from nearby rooftops, followed, but kept hisdistance.

    Iwoolder men sat on lawn chairs across the street from the ball field. They hadracing forms on their laps, along with the sports sections of that morning'sInquirer. They were in their late seventies and had their chairs positionedin such a way that each could see what was approaching but still be closeenough to converse. Jessica had the distinct feeling they didn't miss much.

    Oneof the guys wore at least three cardigans, each a slightly different shade ofmaroon. The other wore a fishing hat with a button saying Kiss Me I'mItalian on it, a button so old that most of the letters were rubbed off.Now, from a few feet away, it looked like Kiss It. Jessica wondered ifthat wasn't on purpose. She showed her badge, introducing herself and KevinByrne.

    Whenthe men saw they were police officers they sat a little straighten

    Jessicaasked: 'You fellows out here every day?'

    'Everymorning, every afternoon,' Cardigans said. 'Rain or shine. 'Cept when it rains,then we sit over there.' He pointed to an old storefront with a metal awning.

    'Inwinter we meet at Mulroney's,' added Fishing Hat.

    Mulroney'swas a tavern on the other side of the playground, a fixture that had beenaround since sometime during the Truman administration.

    Jessicaasked the men what, if anything, they had seen the previous day. After a briefrundown of the day's events - a Philadelphia Inquirer delivery truck gota flat tire, some idiot on a cellphone was yelling at his wife or girlfriendand almost walked into the traffic on Federal, a dog came up and snatched oneof their lunch bags right from under the chair - they got around to what theyhad seen at or near the crime- scene building.

    Nothing.

    'Youdidn't see anybody doing anything suspicious, anybody you haven't seen in theneighborhood before?' Byrne asked.

    'Nah,'Cardigans said. 'We're the only suspicious characters around here.'

    Jessicajotted down the meager information.

    'Youguys got here pretty quick earlier this morning,' Cardigans said.

    'We wereon a donut run around the corner,' Jessica said. 'It was on the way.'

    Cardiganssmiled. He liked her.

    'Notlike the last time,' Fishing Hat interjected.

    Jessicaglanced over at Byrne, back. 'I'm sorry?' she said. 'The last time?'

    'Yeah.That other one?'

    'Theother one.'

    'Theother dead one they found in there.' Fishing Hat pointed to thecrime-scene building, saying all this like it was common knowledge, worldwide.

    'Therewas another victim found in that building?' Jessica asked.

    'Oh,yeah,' he said. 'Place is a slaughterhouse. A regular abbytwar.'

    Jessicafigured he meant abattoir. She stole another glance at Byrne. ' This wasgetting better by the minute. Or worse. 'When was this again?'

    '2002,'Fishing Hat said. 'Spring of 2002.'

    'Nah,'Cardigans said. 'It was '04.'

    FishingHat looked over, as if the other man had just told him the pope was a woman.'2004? What are you, drunk? It was 2002. March 21st. Mickey Quindlen's grandsonbroke his arm on the playground. My wife's brother came in from Cinnaminson,rammed his fucking car into the house.' He looked at Jessica. 'Excuse myGerman.'

    'Ispeak German,' Jessica said.

    'Uniformscame around noon. Suits didn't show up until midnight. I believe I can say allthis without fear of contraception.'

    Cardigansnodded, acquiescing.

    'Uniforms?Suits?' Jessica asked. 'Did you used to be a cop?'

    'Cop?Nah. I worked the docks, forty-one years. I just like that Law and Ordershow. The guy with the big teeth says that kind of stuff all the time.'

    'He'sdead now,' Cardigans said.

    FishingHat looked at his friend. 'He is? Since when?'

    'Longtime now.'

    'Heain't dead on the show.'

    'No.Not on the show he ain't. Just in real life.'

    'Damn.'

    'Yeah.'

    Arespectful silence fell over the group for a moment.

    'Hewas a longshoreman, too,' Fishing Hat said then, crooking a thumb at his buddy.'Back in the day, we were all over. All over. Oregon Avenue, up to SouthStreet, Front Street, Third Street. Not like now. Now I got a lawyer livingnext door to me. A lawyer. There goes the neighborhood.'

    Jessicamade a few more notes as Cardigans looked closely at Byrne. 'You look familiar,'Cardigans said. 'You ever work the docks?'

    'Myfather did,' Byrne said. 'Thirty-five years.'

    Cardiganssnapped his fingers. 'Paddy Byrne.'

    Byrnenodded.

    'Youlook just like him.' He turned to Fishing Hat. 'Did you know Paddy?'

    FishingHat shook his head.

    'Thisguy was a legend on Pier 96.' He turned back to Byrne. 'How is he these days?'

    'He'sgood,' Byrne said. 'Thanks for asking.'

    'Sohow come you didn't follow in his footsteps? Get an honest job?'

    'Thedocks are too dangerous for me,' Byrne said. 'And I prefer a higher class ofcriminal.'

    Cardiganslaughed. 'Yeah. You're Paddy's boy.'

    'So,what else can you tell me about this other victim?' Jessica asked, trying tobring the conversation back around.

    Bothmen shrugged in tandem. 'Not much, 'cept that it was a woman,' Fishing Hatsaid. 'They locked the place up for years. Guy who owned it couldn't even goback in there. Said he was afraid of ghosts or something. He sold it to someguy from Pittsburgh, who sold it to someone else.'

    Jessicalooked around. 'What's the neighborhood, guys?'

    'Somesay Queen Village but they don't know shit.'

    'Whatdo you say?'

    'Wesay Pennsport. Because it is Pennsport. We're south of Washington,for Chrissake.'

    'Dida detective talk to you guys about that case back in '02?' Jessica asked.

    'Justme,' Cardigans said.

    'Doyou remember their names? The detectives?'

    Cardigansshook his head.

    'He don'tremember his kids' names,' Fishing Hat said. 'And he's only got four of 'em.'

    'Didyou know the victim?'

    'No.I heard she was a real hot number, though. Damn shame.'

    Theinformation would be easy enough to find, but probably wasn't relevant. Jessicathanked the two men, got their contact information - names, addresses, phonenumbers - and gave them both a business card, along with the standard requestfor them to call if they thought of anything else.

    'Youcome back anytime,' Fishing Hat said. 'We always have time to talk to prettyyoung girls.'

    Jessicasmiled. Pretty young girls. She'd come back tomorrow.

    Jessicaand Byrne returned to the Roundhouse, collated their witness statements, puttingthem in the binder. While they waited for the coroner's preliminary reports, aswell as any forensic findings, they turned their attention to other matters ofimportance.