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peering at the man. From the corner of his eye he saw Fedderman also stand, in case the obviously inebriated visitor started trouble.
    “I’ll asshole you,” Pearl said, and came up out of her chair.
    Quinn raised a hand and she stopped. Something was going on here beyond a drunk finding his way through an unlocked door.
    The man removed his hand from the wall, leaving a dark smudge, and stood almost humbly before Quinn.
    “I know you,” Quinn said. “Jerry Lido.” He saw again the young, uniformed cop standing frozen by fear against a brick wall, watching a child burn.
    “I didn’t wanna come here at first,” Lido said. “Wasn’t sure what was gonna happen. Were you gonna listen to me or beat the shit outta me?”
    “I’ll listen,” Quinn said. He wasn’t sure how to feel about Lido. He abhorred what the man had done—rather not done. On the other hand, how could he not feel sorry for him? Quinn had suffered debilitating guilt because he hadn’t at first seen the infant in the car seat. What had guilt done to Lido?
    “I don’t feel like I deserve a chance,” Lido said, “but here I am anyway.”
    “Why?”
    For a few seconds Lido looked as if he was wondering that, too. “You mighta heard I got interested in computers, got good at using one.”
    “I heard you were a genius at using one, sometimes illegally, but you were too smart to get caught.”
    Lido chanced a rueful smile. “Too smart to admit it, too.”
    “Okay,” Quinn said. “So why did you look me up?”
    “I saw in the paper what happened to Millie Graff,” Lido said. He writhed slowly as he spoke, as if suffering great internal pain. “Wanted to do something about it, so I read all about the case in the news. Then talked to some guys I know who are still in the NYPD. Then I set to work with my computer. You’re looking at a man who don’t have shit, Quinn—except for my tech equipment. I spent every dime I begged or borrowed on that, and I can work it like I’m conducting an orchestra. You wouldn’t believe—”
    “Let’s get to the point, Jerry.”
    Lido moved farther into the office and was standing near Pearl’s desk. “I worked the Net, learned something about Philip Wharkin. You gotta—” As he spoke he gesticulated with his left arm and knocked Pearl’s empty coffee mug off her desk. It bounced loudly on the floor but didn’t break.
    “Clumsy alky!” Pearl said, her temper flaring. She stood and reached over her desk, shoving Lido backward.
    Lido knocked her hand away. “Don’t you ever goddamn touch me, you pussy cop!”
    Pearl was around the desk, after Lido. He used his arm to sweep everything from her desktop onto the floor; then he snarled and went at her.
    Pearl didn’t back up. Lido swung at her and missed. Pearl started to punch back, but Quinn had both her arms pinned to the side within a few seconds. Fedderman grabbed Lido by his belt and shirt collar and yanked him back so he and Pearl were out of punching range.
    “Calm down now, damn it!” Quinn shouted. He spun Pearl to face away from Lido, staying between them. “You calm?” he whispered in her ear.
    “Don’t I seem calm?” She was actually vibrating in his grasp.
    He walked her over and forcibly sat her back down in her desk chair. Then he looked over and saw Lido curled in the fetal position on the floor.
    Fedderman, standing over him, shook his head. “He ran out of gas in a hurry.” He looked over at Pearl. “You okay?”
    “She’s got it together now,” Quinn said, hoping saying it would make it true.
    “Who’s gonna pick up all that shit he knocked on the floor?” Pearl asked.
    “I am,” Fedderman said, and began doing just that.
    His actions did more than anything to cool Pearl’s temper. She breathed in and out deeply.
    Lido was sitting up now but stayed on the floor, his arms folded across his chest as if he were freezing. “I’m sorry. Jesus, I’m sorry.” He crawled over and started helping Fedderman. Found