That day’s Penny Lock phone-in subject was “Where are you?” Missing persons.

Penny had a small studio but it was light and airy. A heavily soundproofed window gave a spectacular view of the Hudson River. On the wall was a whiteboard with the words “Don’t forget to plug the Christmas special” written in black marker. There was a big swivel chair, executive style, on which Penny sat.

She had a console, similar to the one Mr. Chekov used to fly the starship Enterprise. Low tech. Big buttons. From here she played jingles. There was a microphone on an adjustable stand. Like an Anglepoise lamp. The day’s papers were piled on an adjoining table. Tamy had bought them all and found the bomb attempt on her father’s car in all but the National Enquirer. Tamy was eight times described as “. . . with one daughter.”

The guest chair was a bit raggedy. Guests with sharp keys in their pockets had bobbled and torn it.

Ali’s microphone had a green foam covering that had a small hole in it, as if someone had bitten it.

The clock was analog, not digital.

Tamy was behind a screen. She offered callers to Penny via a monitor.

“Have you ever been in a radio studio before?” asked Penny.

“Yes,” said Ali.

Penny was hoping that she’d say no and feel more overwhelmed by the glamour of the situation.

286

The ex-government agent ran four blocks then vomited half-digested pancakes, croissants, eggs, bacon, coffee, French toast, hash browns and orange juice in the doorway of a department store. It poured out of him. Seemed to go on forever.

285

Penny waited for the cue.

284

Check-in Angela thought she was on to a good thing. Michael Davies was chatting to her in a way which, through her observation of airport courtship rituals, suggested there was some future in the relationship despite the wedding ring and despite him smelling strongly of drink and cigarettes and describing his life as having “turned to shit.”

Then two policemen approached and Michael jumped like a startled faun. He ran. He ran much faster than Angela would have believed a man of his bulk could manage. The police were taken by surprise too and it took them a second or two to react. They gave chase.

Angela watched them disappear through glass doors. Watched the public watch them disappear through glass doors.

Another one gets away, thought Angela philosophically.

283

Me and my two compadres were taken through the wire and led around the perimeter of the runway complex and then hidden behind some cargo containers. Our guide told us to keep down and wait for someone to get us.

We sat huddled together and waited.

I tuned in my radio quietly. It was Penny Lock time. It was time to hear a comforting voice. Penny always said that things would work out just fine.

282

Edward the Fireman lay on the ground. A woman came up to him and asked him if he needed any help.