23.

DELANEY WAS DRESSING THE following morning when the phone rang. It was Boone. He apologized for calling so early. The sergeant wondered if maybe they should put a tail on Saul Geltman, in case he decided to run. The Chief considered it a moment, then decided against it.

"If he spots a tail, all bets are off," he told Boone. "We'll just have to believe he plans to make the meet with Mama Perez at noon, as planned."

The sergeant agreed that was probably best, and confessed he was getting antsy. The Chief said that was understandable, he was too, but last-minute changes of plans had soured many a good setup, and he wanted this scam to go down as rigged. He told Boone that if he wanted to keep busy, and stop fretting about possible fluffs, to check on the search warrant Commissioner Thorsen had promised. If it had been issued, the sergeant was to select two good men to make the toss-but not before noon.

Then the Chief finished dressing and strapped on his short-barreled belly gun. He slipped the packet of Polaroid shots of the Maitland barn into his jacket pocket. At the last minute he also took his handcuffs, wrapping them in his handkerchief so they wouldn't jangle.

He had only grapefruit juice, a slice of unbuttered toast, and two cups of black coffee for breakfast.

"Very good," Monica approved. "You're getting heavy as a bear. Ask me; I know."

"Let's have no lascivious tittle-tattle at breakfast," he said. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine. How about you?"

"Went out like a light."

"So did I," she said. "Too bad the light didn't. It was still burning this morning."

They both laughed, and then, as they ate, they discussed a trip they were planning for the Fourth of July weekend. They were going to rent a car, leave early, drive up to the girls' camp in New Hampshire, and spend the entire three days with them.

"How about Rebecca and Boone?" Delaney said suddenly. "Should we ask them to come along?"

"That would be fun," Monica said. "But we'll be staying at a motel. It won't embarrass you, will it?"

"My God, Monica," he said grouchily, "you must think I'm an old fuddy-duddy."

"Not at all," she said. "You're the youngest fuddy-duddy I know."

He smiled, humor restored, and put his empty dishes in the sink.

"I better go," he said. "Expect me when you see me."

They embraced briefly, and she kissed his chin.

"Take care," she said lightly.

On Orchard Street, already beginning to fill up with shoppers, he made the rounds of electronics van, surveillance team, and the Perez and Ruiz apartments. He found everyone present except for Abner Boone, who had called and said he'd be there by eleven o'clock.

Delaney then took Mama Perez aside, sat her down, and went over with her once again what she was to say and how she was to act. On his instructions, she was wearing one of her oldest dresses, a shapeless sack of faded rayon. Her feet were thrust into worn mules, and she had removed most of her heavy makeup. To him, she looked old, weary, vulnerable. He hoped that was the way Saul Geltman would see her.

Abner Boone arrived, reported the warrant had been obtained, and two dicks were standing by to toss Geltman's apartment and office at noon.

"They'll get in," the sergeant assured Delaney. "They're good men; they'll con the super."

Then they ran a noise-level test, with Jason T. Jason acting the part of Saul Geltman. The problem was to adjust the volume of sound on the TV monitor in the Ruiz apartment so it was loud enough for them to hear, but not so loud that it would carry though the wall between apartments, and Geltman would hear his own voice booming back at him. They cut it down as low as they could, so they had to put their heads close to the set, but nothing could be heard in the Perez apartment.

They took a final look around to make certain there was no track of their presence. Then they filed into the Ruiz apartment, leaving Mama Perez alone. Delaney was the last to leave.

"When this is over," he told her, "win, lose, or draw, I'm buying you a half-gallon of the best whiskey I can find."

"Ooh," she said, eyes widening. "You stay tonight, help me dreenk eet?"

He laughed and patted her veined cheek. If she was fearful, he could see no sign of it. He went into the Ruiz apartment. The bathroom door was locked, They settled down to wait. They watched Mama on the monitor. She moved slowly about her apartment, made a cup of coffee, sat down to drink it and leaf through a Spanish magazine. When she took her empty cup to the sink, they saw her pause before one of her painted plaster saints. Her lips moved, and she crossed herself. No one smiled. They waited in silence.

They remained silent as their watches showed 11:30, 11:45, 12:00, 12:15. At 12:20 Jason T. Jason muttered, "Come on. Come on!"

At 12:26 the walkie-talkie Sergeant Boone was holding crackled into life, and the surveillance man across the street said, "He's coming. North to south. Alone."

They pushed closer to the TV monitor.

"Stopping," the walkie-talkie reported. "Looking around. Looking at the building. Going up the steps. He's in."

Boone put his lips close to the mike, pressed the Send button.

"Give him five minutes," he whispered. "Then move across to backup. Got it?"

"Got it. Will do. Out."

Delaney looked at the others: Boone, Jason, the electronics man.

"No movement," he warned in a low voice. "Strangle before you cough or sneeze."

They all nodded. Eyes on the TV screen. Waiting ...

They heard the knock on the door of the Perez apartment. Watched Mama start, freeze, then move slowly to the door.

"Who?" she called.

They didn't hear the reply, but Mama turned the lock, slipped the chain, opened the door. Her body blocked their view, but they heard the voice.

"Rosa Perez?"

"Yesss. You Meester Geltman?"

"I am indeed. May I come in?"

"Oh sure. Come in."

She stood aside then. Saul Geltman sauntered into the room. He was carrying a small, paper-wrapped package. He looked around. Mama Perez closed the door but, following Delaney's instructions, didn't lock or chain it.

"Nice place you've got here," Geltman said tonelessly, staring about.

He glanced at the open closet, the kitchenette, peered through the open door of the bathroom.

"You share the bathroom?" he asked lightly.

"Oh sure. But nex' door, they ain't home."

He walked slowly into the bathroom. Now he was off-screen, but they heard him try the bathroom door to the Ruiz apartment.

"Is locked," Mama said.

"So I see," Geltman said.

He came back into the main room, still looking around.

"And where is your daughter?" he asked pleasantly.

"At the bodega," Mama Perez said. "Shopping. She come back soon. Feefteen meenutes maybe. Half an hour."

"Good," he said. "I'd like to meet her. May I sit down?"

"Oh sure. Anywhere."

They watched Geltman look at the furniture. He started to sit in the upholstered armchair, then changed his mind.

"I'll bet that's your chair," he smiled winningly.

He selected one of the tubular aluminum chairs. He pulled it free of the table, turned it to face the armchair. He gestured.

"After you, Mrs. Perez," he said gallantly.

He waited until she was seated in the armchair. Then he sat down gracefully in the straight chair. He put the package on the table. He crossed his knees negligently.

In the Ruiz apartment, Chief Delaney touched Officer Jason's arm, pointed toward the bathroom door. The big black nodded, rose slowly to his feet. He moved lightly, cautiously to the door. He put his fingers on the turnbolt, looked back at Delaney. The Chief put up his hand, signaling Jason to wait.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" Saul Geltman asked.

"Hokay," Mama nodded. "Is hokay."

"Will you join me?"

"Oh sure."

Geltman rose to proffer a silver case. While he was going through the business of lighting their cigarettes, Delaney nodded to Jason. He opened the lock easily, slowly. They watched the screen. Apparently Geltman heard nothing. Jason tiptoed back to his original position.

Geltman lounged back casually, smoking his cigarette with an elegance so exaggerated that the watching cops realized, for the first time, how wound-up he was, how tight and anxious. On the black-and-white TV monitor he appeared to be wearing a loosely cut black suit, white shirt, black tie, black shoes. He looked, Delaney thought, like a miniature undertaker, and he wondered where Geltman was carrying a weapon, if he had one.

"Well now," the art dealer said. "We seem to have a problem, don't we?"

"Problem?" Mama said. "You got a problem. I got no problem."

"Yes, of course," he said with a clenched smile. "That's very true. Tell me, did you go to the police or did they find you?"

Rosa lowered her head, and they didn't catch her reply in the Ruiz apartment.

"I wonder how they did that?" Geltman said. "Well ... no matter. I still don't understand how they managed to get drawings of you and your daughter. Do you?"

"He hired my daughter," Mama said. "The artist. To pose for heem. I went back weeth her on Monday. A cop was there. He seen us."

"Oh-ho. I understand. Bad luck. For me, I mean," he added hastily.

Mama jerked her chin toward the package on the table.

"You breeng the moaney?" she asked.

"Of course. As I promised."

"Five tousan'? Small beels?"

"Just as you requested. When will you and your daughter leave for Puerto Rico?"

"Soon. Maybe nex' week."

"And you say you'll never return?"

"Nevair," she vowed.

He nodded. Holding his cigarette butt, one hand cupped underneath, he looked around for an ashtray. Rosa Perez stood up, moved to the kitchenette. For a moment her back was turned to Geltman, and Delaney tensed. But the art dealer didn't move. Mama came back with a saucer, and they stubbed out their cigarettes. The Chief found he was gripping his own knees tightly. He forced himself to spread his hands limply.

"When did the police ask you to identify my photograph?" Geltman asked.

He's stalling, Delaney decided. What for? Hasn't the blood for it? Waiting for Dolores? What?

"Couple days ago," Mama Perez said. "They show me a lot of peectures. 'Who was the man you seen?' they ask me."

"And you picked out my picture?"

She nodded.

"You're certain it was me you saw, Mrs. Perez?"

Again she nodded. "But I tol' them I ain't sure."

"Very smart of you," he smiled. "Very intelligent. Well, I'm glad you called and we got together. Mutual benefit, you might say."

He reached out, pushed the package slowly across the table toward her.

"Open it," he said harshly. "Count it."

She stood, moved to the table, took up the package. Saul Geltman also stood. He stretched. All his movements easy, nonchalant. He slid his hands into his trouser pockets.