Grogan took a roll from his pocket and peeled off a bill. As he handed it to the boy, he said loudly and fervently, “I’m paying you this dollar to stay the hell away from her.”

“Right,” the boy said, pocketed the dollar and scurried off. Grogan took out the handkerchief again and applied it to some dust on the hood. While doing so, he said to Corey, “You see the front page today?”

Corey didn’t answer.

Grogan continued to rub at the dust marks on the hood of the car. Corey looked to one side, his eyes narrow and precisely aimed, as though he was studying the tiny numbers on a slide rule.

“I asked you something,” Grogan said quietly, still rubbing the handkerchief on the hood. Corey remained silent. Grogan whirled around and stared at him and shouted, “You gonna tell me or ain’t you gonna tell me?”

Corey stood relaxed, his expression placid. He said softly, “What’s all the commotion?”

Grogan opened his mouth to shout again. He checked it, then let out a grunt and gritted his teeth. He lifted his hand to his head, smoothing the silver hair. “It’s Macy and Lattimore. It says in the paper they bumped each other. Happened on a vacant lot alongside the river.”

“Is that how you got it? You read it in the paper?”

“Christ no,” Grogan said. “I get a call from the precinct station, from the captain. That’s early this morning, a little after five. So then I’m in the station house and from there we go to the morgue. After that it’s the Hall and they’re making a ballistics check. And sure enough—say whatcha lookin’ at me like that for?”

“I’m just listening,” Corey said mildly. “Go on.”

Grogan took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he said aloud to himself. “I just don’t know.” He looked at Corey. “I mean, I just can’t buy it.”

“Did Homicide buy it?”

Grogan nodded. “They wrapped it up and filed it away. A double shooting, period. But goddamit, I just can’t see it that way.”

“Why not?”

“It just don’t add,” Grogan said worriedly. “Macy and Lattimore, they always got along. They weren’t buddies exactly; and maybe now and then they’d have words. But never anything serious. So why the hell would they shoot each other?”

“They didn’t,” Corey said.

Grogan was quiet for some moments. And then, “What was that you said?”

“They didn’t shoot each other.”

There was a long silence. Grogan turned away, took a few steps, came back and said, “If you know something, why do you hide it from me?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Corey said. “It’s just that you weren’t ready to hear it.”

Grogan’s eyes were high-powered lenses. “Whaddya mean— ready?”