Major turned around just as a hole appeared in his cheek and blood flew out of the back of his head. Now the sound of the shots, two, three, of them. Somebody screamed as Major fell backward like a sack of cement, his head bouncing on the pavement. The Lincoln was already across the intersection, changing lanes to gain even more ground. Devlin hadn’t seen a single number on the license plate.

He wasn’t sure he had even thought of drawing his gun.

And he was better off for it, he thought at once. People were running across the boulevard as traffic immediately backed up and horns blew. The Asian woman was screaming. Devlin had been seen sitting with Major. This was not the time to be detained for questioning, not with Eileen unprotected. Why would anybody want her, except to get to him? Devlin moved with the gathering crowd, through the snarled traffic, toward Major’s body, thinking of the telephone number now, the piece of paper that was his only lead to anything. Jane Milburn’s roommate wasn’t going to be able to unravel much even if Devlin was able to make his way back to Manhattan to see her. If Eileen was safe. Every cop in the city was going to be looking for him if someone tied him to this killing.

But he wasn’t tied to it yet, and wouldn’t be, if he just kept right on hoofing past the ten or so people gathering around Major and the shrieking Asian woman. From three car-lengths away Devlin could see that Major was more than a mess. Devlin could feel his blood thudding in his eardrums. In this rain, Major’s piece of paper would not be far from the body. Devlin looked over his shoulder. People were coming out of the restaurant—but they were pouring out of other places, too. It was not going to be difficult to disappear in this confusion, if he kept his wits about him. Traffic in all directions was stopped, and horns were shrieking. All Devlin was sure of was that he was going to get the hell away from here and alert somebody about Eileen.

As he pushed through the last knot of people around Major, Devlin saw at once that Major’s hand still clutched the piece of paper. In Major’s left cheek was a hole the size of a dime. Major’s eyelashes fluttered under the gentle pummeling of raindrops. Somebody turned to Devlin. “You a doctor?”

“Yeah,” Devlin said, averting his eyes a little. “Let me through.”