Read Online Ed McBain_87th Precinct 47 by Romance - Free Book Online Page B

said.
    Kendall said nothing. The play was a long way from coming alive. Josie’s performance had given it a good boost tonight, but
     unless Corbin sat down and rewrote the damn thing from top to bottom …
    “Almost a shame,” Corbin said.
    “What is?”
    “That he missed.”
    The two men came into the theater while Kendall was giving the cast his notes. Both were wearing topcoats. No hats. In the
     light that silhouetted them from the lobby as they came through the doors at the rear of the theater, he could see that one
     was blond and the other had dark hair. They were both tall, wide-shouldered men of about the same height and weight, both
     in their thirties somewhere, he guessed. The blond had hazel-colored eyes. The one with the dark hair had slanted brown eyes.
    “Mr. Kendall?” the blond one called, inadvertently interrupting him in the middle of a sentence, which Kendall didn’t appreciate
     one damn bit.
    “Sorry to bother you, I’m Detective Kling, 87th Squad, this is Detective Carella, my partner.”
    He was showing a shield now.
    Kendall was unimpressed.
    “Miss Cassidy told us you might still be rehearsing here,” Kling said. “We thought we’d save some trouble if we caught you
     all in the same place.”
    “I see,” Kendall said dryly. “And just what sort of trouble were you hoping to save?”
    “Few questions we’d like to ask,” Kling said.
    “Tell you what,” Kendall said saccharinely. “Why don’t you and your partner here go out to the lobby together, and have a
     seat on one of the red plush velvet benches out there, and when I’m finished giving the cast my notes—which I was
attempting
to do when you interrupted—we’ll all come out there and play cops and robbers with you, okay? How does that sound?”
    The theater went suddenly as still as a tomb.
    “Sounds fine to me,” Kling said pleasantly. “How does that sound to you, Steve?”
    “Sounds fine to me, too, Bert.”
    “So what we’ll do,” Kling said, “is go find that red plush velvet bench in the lobby, and sit out there hoping the person
     who stabbed Michelle Cassidy won’t make California by the time you finish giving the cast your notes. How does
that
sound to you?”
    Kendall blinked at him.
    “See you when you’re done,” Kling said, and turned and began walking toward the back of the theater again.
    “Just a minute,” Corbin said.
    Kendall blinked again.
    “The notes can wait,” Corbin said. “What did you want to know?”
    Which cued a scene outstanding only for its sheer boredom and longevity.
    “You look tired,” Sharyn said.
    “So do you,” Kling said.
    “I am,” she said.
    It was almost midnight. Sharyn had called the squad-room at eleven to say she was in the city …
    To any native of this town, there was Calm’s Point, Majesta, Riverhead, Bethtown—and the City. Isola was the City, even though
     without the other four, it was only one-
fifth
of the city. Sharyn had called the squadroom to say …
    … she was in the city and if he still wanted to have a cup of coffee she could meet him someplace uptown, which is where she
     happened to be. At St. Sebastian’s Hospital, as a matter of fact. As an afterword, she mentioned that she was as hungry as
     a bear. Kling mentioned that he hadn’t really eaten yet either, and suggested a fabulous deli on the Stem. At eleven-thirty—fifteen
     minutes before the shift was officially relieved—he dashed out of the squadroom.
    Sharyn was now wolfing down a pastrami on rye.
    She licked mustard from her lips.
    “I’m glad you called,” he said. “I was going to throw myself out the window otherwise.”
    “Sure.”
    “What were you doing at St. Sab’s?”
    “Trying to get a cop transferred to a better hospital. Right after you called me this afternoon, an officer got shot on Denver
     and Wales …”
    “The Nine-Three.”
    “The Nine-Three. Ambulance took him to St. Sab’s, the
worst
hospital in the whole damn city. I got there at