Streets of Fire Read Online Free PDF Page A

toward the adjoining room.
    ‘What part of town do you live in?’ Ben asked as he followed along.
    ‘Thirty-second Street,’ the attendant said dully.
    ‘That’s not too far from where we found her,’ Ben said. ‘You know that old ballfield around there?’
    ‘Yes, sir.’
    ‘That’s where she was. Buried under a goalpost.’
    The old man said nothing. He continued to tug the table slowly forward, maneuvering carefully toward the open door behind him.
    ‘What’s your name?’ Ben asked him.
    ‘They calls me Davey.’
    Ben grasped the edge of the table, stopped its movement, then pulled the sheet back to reveal the girl’s face.
    ‘You ever seen this little girl, Davey?’
    The old man gave the small face a quick glance. ‘Naw, sir.’
    ‘Maybe playing in the park, something like that? Maybe just walking along the sidewalk?’
    ‘I ain’t never seen her,’ the man said. He drew his eyes from the girl’s face and gave a tentative pull on the table.
    Ben held it firmly in place. ‘Who runs things over in Bearmatch?’ he asked.
    The attendant kept his eyes downcast. ‘The Black Cat boys,’ he said quietly.
    ‘I don’t mean them,’ Ben said. ‘I mean your own people.’
    The old man said nothing.
    ‘Lots of things go on in Bearmatch,’ Ben said. ‘Somebody has control of it.’
    The attendant shook his head. ‘It ain’t my business,’ he said softly. He waited a moment, then gave another tug on the table.
    Ben released it, then followed it into the adjoining room. He leaned against the wall and watched as the old man opened the freezer door and pushed the table inside. When he turned back around, he seemed surprised to find Ben still lingering in the room.
    ‘You ask the Black Cat boys what you wants to know,’ he said. ‘You one of they own.’
    Ben smiled quietly. ‘You trust them, Davey? You trust the Black Cat boys?’
    The old man said nothing, but he looked at Ben knowingly.
    ‘I don’t either,’ Ben said. ‘That’s why I want to talk to somebody else about this girl.’ He paused, letting it sink in. ‘Give me a name, Davey. Just one name.’
    The ancient brown eyes squeezed together slowly as he turned it over in his mind.
    ‘They’re going to bury that little girl tomorrow,’ Ben added. ‘I think her mama ought to be there.’
    The old man’s face lifted slightly, as if with sudden pride. ‘Roy Jolly,’ he said.

FIVE
    Night had begun to come down over the city by the time Ben left the chill, white corridors of Hillman Hospital. The sirens which had filled the air all day were now silent, and as he walked to his car in the pinkish-blue light, he could almost imagine that the worst was over. But he knew that it wasn’t, and the evening quiet only reminded him of the sort he remembered from the war, when, after a day-long assault, Japanese and Americans would retire to their encampments and wait nervously for dawn. He knew that that was more or less what was happening now, and when he pulled into the cavernous basement of the station house, he was not at all surprised-to find ragged lines of state troopers oiling their rifles, checking their cartridge bags, or edgily adjusting the plexiglass shields of their helmets.
    He nodded to a few of them as he walked toward the cement stairs that led to the first floor, but he didn’t stop to talk. The unventilated basement always smelled faintly sour, but now the odor was even denser, and Ben realized it came from the overheated tires of the paddy wagons, rubber which had melted slightly, as if from hurtling back and forth down streets of fire.
    It was better upstairs, where the large rotating fans whirred continually, and Ben took a deep, refreshing breath as he walked into the detective bullpen and sat down at his desk.
    ‘Anything come in, Sammy?’ he called to McCorkindale in the back corner of the room.
    McCorkindale glanced toward him, then shook his head vigorously.
    ‘Captain Starnes around?’
    ‘Just stepped out to