The Hard Way by Carol Lea Benjamin

be watching.”
    â€œWhat do you know about the man you’re looking for?”
    â€œThat’s the hard part, Eddie. The witnesses? They only agreed on two things, that he was homeless and that he was tall.”
    â€œWhat about his race?”
    â€œNot even that.”
    â€œBecause they were so scared,” he said.
    â€œExactly so.”
    Eddie nodded. Scared he understood.
    â€œHe’s probably crazy,” he said. “God only knows why he pushed that man. He himself might not know.”
    â€œBut that doesn’t make him any less dangerous.”
    The waiter arrived and set down the coffee and tea. Eddie picked up his cup and inhaled deeply. He took a sip, closing his eyes, concentrating on the taste. “The coffee in the army stinks,” he said. And then he looked out the window again while we waited for the cheesecake.
    When the cake came, I thought Eddie would dive in. But he didn’t. He took the tiniest bite, just enough so that he could revel in the pleasure as the taste spread sideways and filled his mouth with the tartness of the lemon and the sweetness of the cheese.
    â€œI’ve been thinking about what you said, Rachel.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œThe day we met the first time, I saw you climb out of the Dumpster. That was a good piece of work, thinking to do that. Maybe that’s why it never occurred to me you weren’t really homeless.”
    I must admit swelling a bit with pride.
    â€œBut did you ever actually eat something you found there?”
    I made a face, shook my head, unpuffed my chest.
    â€œAnd when there’s trouble, nothing’s happening, the weather’s bad, the cops show up, there’s a fight or something? You go home, right? You never slept outside, did you?”
    I shook my head again.
    â€œI’m sorry to ask this at the table, but did you ever relieve yourself outside?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “I never did. But what does this have to do with—”
    Eddie held up one hand to stop me. “Maybe somehow that shows,” he whispered, leaning closer. “Maybe that’s why you’re not having any luck.”
    â€œBecause by not doing those things, I’m not staying in character,” I said, as much to myself as to Eddie.
    He nodded.
    â€œI’d have been curious about the place you offered me, more receptive to your generosity.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œBut I didn’t need a place to stay.”
    â€œAnd some of them…” He stopped for a moment. “Some of us are canny enough to pick up on things like that, especially those of us who’ve been in trouble.”
    Eddie leaned back against the banquette, letting me think it over. I did, thinking that if I had to eat what I found in a Dumpster, sleep outside and use the space next to a tree as a toilet, I hadn’t charged Eleanor Redstone nearly enough; thinking, too, that I never should have taken the case in the first place. I didn’t like either thought. I’d made a deal and I would stick to it, and I’d find a way to get the information I needed even if it meant competing with the city’s rats for old tuna cans and half-eaten sandwiches.
    â€œOkay,” I said, “let’s talk business.” But I’d forgotten to touch his arm, and Eddie was looking out the window again, making me wonder if he was seeing West Fourth Street or something else, a different place, a different time. It made me wonder if he remembered things from before the war. Or what had happened to him during the war.
    I reached out and put my hand on his arm, pulling him back into the present.
    â€œCan we give it a shot tomorrow? Can we meet up, I mean, canyou meet up with Eunice tomorrow and see if we can do better together than I’ve been doing alone, if your credibility might rub off on me?”
    â€œSure,” he said, back from wherever he’d been.
    â€œYou’ll treat me as Eunice