The Interrogation by Thomas H. Cook Page B

dress. Red.”
    “Was she wearing a cap?”
    “No.”
    “A scarf?”
    “No.”
    “Did you notice anything else about her?”
    “She had a bandage on her hand.”
    Cohen leaned back slightly. “All that from a glimpse?” His tone was mildly accusatory. “That’s a lot to notice, Jay. I’ll bet you noticed that she was wearing something around her neck. You said she wasn’t wearing a scarf, so you must have been close enough to see her throat, right? So, was she wearing a locket?”
    “No.”
    “But if she were running, it would be flopping around, wouldn’t it?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well, we know Cathy was wearing a locket that day. We know she wore it on the outside of her dress, not tucked in. And we know that someone took it from her.”
    “Not me. I never saw a locket.”
    “How could you not have seen it if you saw everything else?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “You saw it, didn’t you, Jay?”
    Smalls curled back in his chair and dropped his hands into his lap. “No, I didn’t. I never saw a locket.”
    Cohen nodded. “Okay, let’s go on. It starts to rain. You left the alley beside Clairmont Towers and headed for your pipe, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “It’s raining real hard. Everybody’s rushing to get out of the rain, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “You know it’s possible that Cathy just wanted to get out of the rain too. I mean, she was at a schoolmate’s birthday party that afternoon. We know that when she left the party she was supposed to wait for her mother in the building lobby. But Cathy didn’t do that. Instead, she left the building and went over to the park entrance. What we don’t know is why she went into the park, or what happened to her after that. So let’s say it starts to rain, okay? Cathy starts looking for a place to get out of the rain, and maybe she spots the tunnel and she figures she can go in there and wait for the rain to stop.” He leaned forward. “So, did Cathy come into your tunnel, Jay?”
    “No.”
    “But it was raining. She needed to get out of the rain. It’s a logical place for her to have gone, don’t you think?”
    “She never came into the tunnel.”
    “Okay, Cathy was just walking along, then, let’s say that. She was just walking along, not paying any attention to things around her. Not even the rain. You know how kids are, right, Jay? It’s not always easy to get their attention, is it?”
    Smalls gave no answer, but Cohen noticed a subtle flinch in his lusterless eyes, as if he’d just been jabbed with a needle.
    “Jay, have you ever tried to get a kid’s attention?”
    Smalls said nothing.
    “I mean, you have an interest in kids, right? Hanging around playgrounds, that sort of thing. Don’t you ever want to talk to a kid?”
    “I don’t talk to them,” Smalls said.
    “But you want to, don’t you? You want to … get close to a kid.”
    Something in Smalls appeared to collapse slightly, like a man who’d suddenly recognized his own pathetic hollowness.
    “I know how you could get a kid’s attention, Jay,” Cohen said. “You could throw a ball. Near a kid, I mean. We found a few rubber balls in all that stuff you had in the tunnel. You could just toss one of those balls over near a kid and ask the kid real nice to bring it back to you. Have you ever used that trick, Jay? Did you use it on Cathy? Did that happen, Jay? When Cathy came down the path, did you toss a ball at her, and did she notice it, and did she bring it back to you?”
    “No.”
    “Think now, Jay. Think of this little girl runningdown the path. The girl in the red dress. The one you’d watched before. You see her coming down the path, and so, to get her attention, you throw a ball.”
    “I didn’t throw a ball,” Smalls said fiercely.
    “That’s what happened, isn’t it?” Cohen asked evenly, his eyes leveled on Smalls. “You saw Cathy and you … got her attention.”
    “No,” Smalls answered sharply.
    “And after you got her attention, you did