“This is the last time I’m doing this for you, the last fucking time,” Nadine said in the lilting, singsong voice you would use to talk to a baby, extending her arms up toward the orange animal. “Isn’t that right, kitty? I’m never doing this ever again, no, not for you and not for your mommy, hmm? If you get out again, it’s between you and Addy, hmm?”

The cat meowed mournfully and clutched the branch tighter. People were getting on and off the subway nearby, and men were sitting outside on folding chairs in front of a barbershop. A few people curiously watched Nadine, and oneguy paused to take a video with his cell phone. A woman like her, noticeably out of place in one of New York’s last real working-class neighborhoods, trying to cajole a somewhat feral cat out of a tree — it was funny.

I tried to imagine what the video would look like to someone who didn’t know Nadine. She had an innocent aspect to her — she was rather short, had a round face, dark brown hair that she kept in a low-maintenance bob, an unassuming style of dress. It took a while to see the intensity under the surface.

I called Adelaide. While I was waiting for her to pick up, I flipped off the guy taking the video, which might have been overkill, but it did make him keep walking.

“We found her,” I said. “She’s ok.” Nadine had gotten the cat out of the tree and was easing her into the cat carrier.

“Oh my god, thank you so much,” Adelaide said. From the swirling murmur of city sounds behind her voice I figured she was outside her office in Manhattan. “I’m so sorry this always seems to happen when I’m not there. I owe you. Where was she?”

“Fresh Pond,” I said.

“God,” she said. “Fuck. I’m so glad you found her before anything happened.”

“You need to keep that window closed,” I said.

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry. Um, I have to go. I’ve been a mess today. I need to, like, not get fired.”

The cat was pressing its little face against the plastic mesh of the carrier and making throaty complaining sounds. Nadine held it at a distance from her, grimacing slightly.

“I deserve some kind of award for not biting her head off about this,” Nadine said.

“I know what you mean,” I said.

“Would you mind taking her back?”

“Not at all.”

She handed me the cat carrier and walked off down the street in the opposite direction from our building. I watched her fumble in her purse to get her phone and call somebody, but by then she was out of earshot.