“Thanks,” he said to her, without lifting his head.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

Addis heard the disappointment. He looked at her. “I owe you one,” he said. “Or two. Maybe when things calm down I can make it up to you.”

The corners of her mouth lifted.

“Yes,” she said.

His eyes returned to the paper. He found what he was looking for on the log. “Thank you,” he said.

“I thought you might want …” She handed him a can of Coke.

“That’s kind of you.” He rolled his chair next to the mini-refrigerator and opened the door. It was empty. “See,” he said. “I’m out.” He placed the can in the refrigerator and rolled back to the desk. “I’ll have it later.”

“Well if you need …”

“Okay.”

“Uh, good luck,” she said as she left.

He put the log to the side of his desk and stared at the phone number for Lancette’s family. What could he tell her parents without withholding information or lying? he asked himself. But they deserved to know. He closed the phone book and tossed it on a bookshelf.

Not yet, he thought. Not just yet.

47 - K and 17th Streets July 1

47

K and 17th Streets July 1

Anjean Jameson stood on the street corner and watched an Asian man selling sunglasses. Korean, he thought. And the guy at the next booth—Korean, too. Another Korean next to him. And they all were peddling shit. These weren’t DKNY sunglasses. Or Tommy. Or Ray-Ban. You don’t get shit like that for nine dollars. Not even if some G.B.’ers do a warehouse. The words on the frame don’t mean nothing. They must crank this shit out somewhere. Maybe in Korea, wherever that was. But one thing he told himself he knew was that you don’t get nothing for almost-nothing. Either you pay the man and get it real. Like his T-land specs. One-seventy-five, in Georgetown. He dished it out. Two Bennies. The sales clerk couldn’t even look at him. Like his money was no good. But she held out her hand, didn’t she? Palm up.’Cause green is green … . Or you take it. You want, you take. That’s the other way. So you give it to the man or you take it from the man. You don’t pay no change to some squinty Korean chink who smiles at you, holds up a mirror to your uglyass face, and says, “Lookgood, lookgood.” But he had one fool after another. Office creeps crawling to work. Twelve dollars for a Calvin Klein. Man, who believes that bullshit? People are fucking stupid.