You came here, you told the story. There was no-"

"Look, don't patronize me by calling me 'kid' like I'm some kind of hick from the sticks. I've given you something and I want something back. That's why I came."

"I don't have anything for you now, Jack."

"That's bullshit. You can sit there and lie, Larry Legs, but I know you've got something. I need it."

"What, to make a big story that'll bring the rest of the jackals like you out?"

I was the one who leaned forward this time.

"I told you, this isn't about a story." I leaned back and we both looked at each other. I wanted a cigarette but didn't have any and I didn't want to ask him for one. The silence was punctuated when one of the detectives I had seen in the homicide room opened the door and looked in.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Get the fuck out of here, Rezzo," Washington said.

After the door was closed, he said, "Nosy prick. You know what they're thinking, don't you? They're thinking maybe you're in here coppin' to doing' the kid. It's the year anniversary, you know. Weird things happen. Wait till they hear this story."

I thought of the photo of the boy in my pocket.

"I went by there on the way over," I said. "There's flowers."

"They're always there," Washington said. "The family goes by there all the time."

I nodded and for the first time felt guilty about taking the photo. I didn't say anything. I just waited for Washington.

He seemed to ease up some. His face became softer, relaxed.

"Look, Jack, I gotta do some checking. And some thinking. If I tell you I'll call you, I'm gonna call you. Go back to the hotel, get a massage, whatever. I'll call you one way or the other in a couple hours."

I nodded reluctantly and he stood up. He held his arm across the table, his right hand out. I shook it.

"Pretty good work. For a reporter, I mean."

I picked up my computer and left. The squad room was more crowded now and a lot of them watched me go. I guess I had been in there long enough for them to know I wasn't a crackpot. Outside it was colder and the snow was beginning to come down hard. It took me fifteen minutes to flag down a cab.

On the ride back I asked the driver to swing by Wisconsin and Clark and I jumped out and ran across the snow to the tree. I put the photo of Bobby Smathers back where I'd found it.