"Let me check. And watch that mouth. You don't have to get so testy." He watched her get up. She wore a short black tube skirt that embarrassingly displayed a network of varicose veins running down the back of her thighs. He realized he had no idea how old she was, a used-up thirty or an over-the-hill forty-five. It seemed that when she bent over to get her purse out of a lower file drawer, she was intentionally giving him the view. She came up with the purse and dug around in it for change. While the large black bag swallowed her hand like an animal she looked at him through the glass with appraising eyes.

"See anything you like?" she asked.

"No, not really," Gladden replied. "You got the change?"

She pulled her hand out of the maw of the bag and looked at the change.

"You don't have to be so rude. Besides, I only got seventy-one cents."

"I'll take it."

He shoved the dollar through.

"You sure? Six of it is pennies."

"Yes, I'm sure. There's the money."

She dropped the change into the slot and he had a difficult time getting it all up because his fingernails were bitten away to nothing"You're in room six, right?" she said, looking at an occupancy list. "Checked in a single. Still by yourself.

"What, now is this twenty questions?"

"Just checking. What are you doing' in there alone, anyhow? I hope you're not jerkin' off on the bedspread."

She smirked. She had gotten him back. His anger boiled up and he lost it. He knew he should keep calm, not leave an impression, but he couldn't hold back.

"Now who's being rude, hmmm? You know what you are, you are fucking disgusting. Those veins running up your ass look like the road map to hell, lady."

"Hey! You watch your"

"Or what? You kicking me out?"

"Just watch what you say."

Gladden got the last coin up, a dime, and turned to walk away without replying. Out on the street, he went to the newspaper box and bought the morning edition. Safely back inside the dark confines of his room, Gladden dug through the newspaper until he found the Metro section. The story would be here, he knew. He quickly scanned through the eight pages of the section and found nothing about the motel murder case. Disappointed, he n guessed that maybe the death of a black maid wasn't news in this town.

He tossed the paper down on the bed. But as soon as it landed a photograph on the front page of the section caught his attention. It was a shot of a young boy on his way down a sliding board. He picked the section back up and read the caption that went with the photo. It said that swing sets and other children's amusements had finally been replaced at MacArthur Park following the long period of their removal while a subway station construction project caused the closure of most of the park.