“Did anyone call 911?”

“Yo hable.” Delacruz handed me another clean rag to wipe my dirty face.

“Thank you, señor.” I had put a clean napkin over my shoulder and was rocking the baby against my chest. “If you can, get some warm sugar water and dunk a clean napkin into it. Then bring it to me.”

The man was off in a flash. The baby’s cries had quieted to soft sobs. I suddenly noticed that my own cheeks were warm and wet, thrilled that this incident had resolved positively. Delacruz was back with the sugar water–soaked napkin. I took it and put the tip of a corner into her mouth. Immediately, she sucked greedily. In the distance I heard a wail of sirens.

“We’ve got to get you to the hospital, little one. You’re one heck of a strong pup, aren’t you?”

I smelled as overripe as rotten fruit. I placed the infant back into Delacruz’s arms. “Por favor, give her to the ambulance people. I need to wash my hands.”

He took the bundle and began to walk with her. It was one of those Kodak moments, this macho man cooing in Spanish to this tiny, displaced infant. The job had its heartbreak, but it also had its rewards.

After rotating my shoulders to release the tension, I went through the back door of The Tango and asked one of the dishwashers where I could clean up. I heard a gasp and turned around. A man wearing a toque was shooing me away with dismissive hands. “Zis is a food establishment! You cannot come in here like zat!”

“Someone dumped a baby in the trash outside.” My stare was fierce and piercing. “I just rescued her by opening up fifteen bags of garbage. I need to wash my hands!”

Toque was confused. “Here? A bébé?”

“Yes, sir! Here! A bébé!” I spotted a cloud of suds that had filled up a sink. Wordlessly, I walked over and plunged my hands inside very warm water. What the heck! All the china went into a dishwasher anyway, right? After ridding my hands of the grime, I ran the cold water full blast and washed my face. One of the kitchen workers was nice enough to offer me a clean towel. I dried myself off and looked up.

The ambulance had arrived, red strobe lights pulsing through the windows. I pointed to Mr. Toque and gave him my steely-eyed look. “Like heartburn, I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

The EMTs had already cut the cord and were cleaning her up. I regarded the medics as they did their job. A sturdy black woman was holding the baby in her arms while a thin white kid with a consumptive complexion was carefully wiping down the infant’s face. Both were gloved.

“How’s she doing?” I asked.

They looked up. The thin kid smiled when he saw me. “Whew, you musta been hungry.”

The kid’s name tag said B. HANOVER. I gave him a hard stare and he recoiled. “Jeez. Just trying out a little levity, Officer. It breaks the tension.”