87th Precinct - The Frumious Bandersnatch Part 2

aI wasnat fishing for a compliment.a aBut you are beautiful, Patricia.a aWell, thanks, but whataa aA cream dee mint,a Ollie said to the waiter, aand another of these cognacs.a aYes, sir,a the waiter said, and walked off.

aWhat I was trying to say,a Patricia said, ais, for example, as a young girl in this city, Inever felt safe, never. For example, weare enjoying a few drinks together here, and I feel perfectly safe with youaa aWell, thank you,a Ollie said, aah yes, madear. And I feel perfectly safe with you, too.a Patricia laughed.

aBut when I was in my twenties, Iad be out with some guyawell, even lately, for that matter, before I became a cop. I mean this isnat something that just goes away, itas a constant with a woman. Iad be having a drink with some guyaa aHow old are you, anyway?a Ollie asked.

aOh, gee, youare not supposed to ask that.a aWhy not? Iam thirty-eight,a he said.

aI was thirty in February.a aFebruary what?a he asked, and took out his notebook.

aYou gonna write it down?a she said, surprised.

aSure.a aWhy?a aSo I can buy you a present. Provided it ainat too close to Valentineas Day.a aNo, itas February twenty-seventh.a aGood. So then I can get youtwo presents,a he said.

an.o.body ever gave me a Valentineas Day present,a Patricia said.

aWell, you wait and see,a he said, and scribbled her name and the date of her birthday in his book.

aCrme de menthe for the lady,a the waiter said, aand a Courvoisier for the gentleman.a aThank you,a Ollie said.

aMy pleasure, sir,a the waiter said, and smiled, and walked off again.

aCheers,a Ollie said.

aCheers,a she said.

They both drank.

aGee, Istill feel safe,a Ollie said.

aMe, too,a she said, and grinned. aBut what I was saying, Oll, is that before I became a cop, Iad be having a drink with some guy who took me out, or even just standing with some guy who was chatting me up in a bar, and Iad all at once be on my guard. Like donat drink too much, Patricia, watch out, Patricia, this guy may be the son of a b.i.t.c.h whoall rape you, excuse my French, Oll. Or coming home late at night on the subway, cold sober, Iad always be afraid some two-hundred-pound guy was going to pounce on me and beat me up and rape me. Iam five-sevenaa aI know,a Ollie said, and smiled. aThatas a good height.a aThank you. And I weigh a hundred and twenty pounds. What chance would I have against some guyas been lifting weights in the prison gym? Thatas why Iam glad Josieas in my bag. Anybody gets wise with me, heas got to deal not only with me but with Josie, too.a aIad sure hate to meet you in a dark alley,a Ollie said.

aYou would? I take that as a compliment, Oll.a aYou know something?a aWhat?a an.o.body ever called me aOlla before. I mean before tonight. I mean before you did.a aReally?a aReally.a aWellais that all right? I meanaaOlla sounds so natural. I meanait seems to fit you.a aOll,a he said, trying it.

aOll,a she said, and shrugged tentatively.

aHereas to it,a he said, and raised his gla.s.s. aOll.a aHereas to it,a she said, and clinked her gla.s.s against his.

The band was playing aTenderly.a aWanna dance again?a Patricia asked.

aYes, I would,a Ollie said.

aYouare a good dancer, Oll,a she said.

aOll,a he said, testing the name again, tasting it like wine.

aIs it okay?a she asked.

aYes, itas just fine, Patricia,a he said, and led her inside and onto the dance floor.

CHANNEL FOURaS OWNprivate motor launch pulled up alongside just as theRiver Princess slowed her speed and lowered the loading platform and ladder on her port side. Somewhat a celebrity in her own right, more for her spectacular legs than for her news coverage, Honey Blair drew a sizable crowd of somewhat-celebrities themselves to that side of the boat, wherea"followed by her crew of threea"she climbed to the main deck, an abundance of leg and thigh showing in the short leather mini she was wearing. Honey was accustomed to dressing somewhat skimpily for her roving reporter a.s.signments on the Eleven OaClock News, a penchant that made her one of the stationas favorites. Tonight, to complement the short blue leather mini, she was wearing calf-high navy leather boots with not-quite stiletto heels, and an ice-blue, long-sleeved, clingy silk blouse, its pearl b.u.t.tons unb.u.t.toned to show just the faintest shadowed beginnings of her cleavage. Honey normally looked cool and swift and s.e.xy. But in tonightas crowd, she resembled somebodyas maiden aunt from Frozen Stalks, Idaho.

Tamar Valparaiso was scheduled to be taped at tenP.M. , which would give Honey time enough to get back to the studio, do some quick editing, and get the piece on the air by eleven-twenty, after theyad covered all the local fires, murders, political scandals, and a weensy bit of international news so that the channel wouldnat seem like just another hick television station here in one of Americaas biggest cities. Honeyas taped segment would be followed by Jim Garrison doing the dayas sports, which meant that a lot of male viewers in their thirties, a large part of Tamaras target audience, would be watching her do aBanders.n.a.t.c.ha for two or three minutes, after which Honey would interview her, all panting and sweatya"Tamar, not Honeya"for another minute or so. That was a h.e.l.l of a big bite of television time, and donat think Binkie Horowitz and everyone else at Bison didnat realize it.

It was one thing to have the video premiere on all four music channels yesterday. It was another to get coverage like this on one of the big three networks, during the Eleven OaClock News, no less, following the Sat.u.r.day night movie. Binkie had every right to feel proud of himself for landing the spot.

Now that Honey was here, Binkieas job was to make sure she was a) comfortable and b) well prepared for the short interview that would follow Tamaras performance. Honey was meticulous about not drinking on the job, so while her crew set up their cameras alongside the polished dance floor where Tamar and her partner would be performing, Binkie plied Honey with rich dessert and hot tea while filling her in on Tamaras background, such as it was.

aShe comes from karaoke,a he said, acan you imagine? Used to perform in clubs in southwest Texas, her fatheras Mexican, you know, her motheras Russian. Nice little background story there, by the way, how they met. Heas a vacuum cleaner salesman, her motheras a beautician, this is a real American success story, immigrants coming here from different parts of the world, raising an all-American girl whoas poised on the edge of stardoma"do I detect a skeptical look on your face?a Honey raised her shoulders and her eyebrows.

aMy dear woman,a Binkie said, aTamar Valparaiso is like nothing you have ever seen before, just you wait. She is new, she is original, dare I say she is seminal? She already had vibrato when she was eight, she has a five-octave range, and she can sight-read any piece of music you put in front of her, including opera. Sheas not only going to be the biggest diva to explode on the CHR-pop scene in decades, sheas also going to be a big movieaa aWhatas CHR-pop?a Honey asked.

aContemporary Hit Radio,a Binkie said by rote.

aYou donat want me to use that word on the air, do you?a Honey asked.

aWhat word is that?a Binkie asked. aRadio?a aDiva.a aWhy not?a aItas derogatory. Itas customarily used to describe a temperamental opera singer.a aNot in rock music, itas not.a aYou really want me to call your girl adiva? a aThatas what sheas gonna be after tonight,a Binkie said. aOnce aBanders.n.a.t.c.ha hits the chartsaa aWhyad she choose a Lewis Carroll poem?a aAsk her, why donat you?a aI will. Is she smart?a aSmarter than most of them,a he said, which said it all.

Honey looked at her watch.

aWhereas the Ladiesa?a she asked. aI want to touch up my makeup.a It was twenty minutes to ten.

BECAUSE PATRICIAhad been leaving directly from work earlier tonight, shead changed in the precinct swing room and met Ollie at the restaurant. Now, at a quarter to ten that Sat.u.r.day, she sat beside Ollie on the front seat of his Chevy Impala, driving uptown on the River Harb Highway, watching the lights of a yacht that had stopped dead out there on the water, and was now apparently riding her anchor. Music from a station that played what it called aSmoothjazza flooded the automobile.

aBy the way,a Ollie said, ahave you thought of a song you want me to learn for you?a aIave been trying to think of one all week,a Patricia said.

aHave you come up with anything?a aYes. aSpanish Eyes.a a aI donat think I know that one.a aNot the one the Backstreet Boys did onMillennium, a Patricia said. aThe one Iam talking about is an older one. It was a hit when my mother was a teenager.a aThe Backstreet Boys, huh?a Ollie said.

He had no idea who she meant.

aEven theyare on the way out,a Patricia said. aIn fact, who knows how long aNSyncas gonna last. These boy bands come and go, you know.a aOh, I know,a Ollie said.

aBut Iam talking about theold aSpanish Eyes,a a she said, and sang the first line for him. a aBlue Spanish eyesateardrops are falling from your Spanish eyesaa That one.a aIall ask Helen.a aWhoas Helen?a aMy piano teacher. Helen Hobson. Any song I tell her I want to learn, she finds the sheet music for me. Iall ask her to get aSpanish Eyes.a a aBut not the one the Backstreet Boys did.a aWho did the other one? The one you want me to learn?a aAl Martino. He recorded it in 1966, I wasnat even born yet, my mother was still a teenager. She still plays it day and night, thatas how I happen to know it.a aAl Martino, huh?a Ollie said.

Head never heard of him, either.

aYeah, he was a big recording star. Well, I think heas still around, in fact.a a1966, thatas a long time ago,a Ollie said. aI hope she can still find the sheet music. Lots of these people who were big hits in the fifties and sixties, they just disappear, you know.a aBut lots of them are still around,a Patricia said.

aOh sure.a aAnd better than ever.a aOh, I know.a aThe older they get, the better they get. Look at Tony Bennett.a aYou want me to learn a Tony Bennett song for you?a aNo, I want you to learn aSpanish Eyes.a Just for me. So you can play it for me when you come up the house.a aYou got a piano?a aOh sure. My brother plays piano.a aIall be happy to learn aSpanish Eyesa for you.a aYou promise?a aI promise.a aYouall like it. Itas a very lovely love song.a aI like lovely love songs,a Ollie said.

aItas the next exit, you know,a she said.

aPardon?a aYou get off at the next exit.a aOh. Right, right.a The next exit was Hampton Boulevard, and Hampton Boulevard was one of the worst sections in Riverhead. The population on Hamp Bull, as it was familiarly called, was largely Puerto Rican and Dominican; the local cops joked that around hereEnglish was the second language. The Hamp Bull Precinct was nicknamed The Dead Zone, and for good reason; it was worth your life to walk around here after dark, even if you were a policeman. Drug-infested and crime-ridden, the ten square blocks encompa.s.sed by the precinct were at the very top of the Commissioneras list of Red Alert Areas. Ollie swung the car off at the exit sign, and drove up the ramp.

He said nothing for several moments.

At last, he said, aSo this is where you live, huh?a a1113 Purcell,a she said, and nodded.

aHow long you been living here?a aI was born here.a aYour folks, too?a aNo, my parents were born in Puerto Rico. Mayagez. You make the next left.a Ollie nodded.

Young men were standing on every street corner.

aMy brother and my sisters were born here, though,a Patricia said.

a1113, you said?a aThe project up ahead.a aGot it.a He pulled the Impala next to the curb. Some young guys wearing gang bandannas were playing basketball under the lights in the playground. They turned to watch as Ollie came around to let Patricia out on the curb side. In a seemingly casual move, he unb.u.t.toned his jacket and flipped it open to show the holstered Glock. Patricia caught this, but said nothing. She watched as he locked the car.

aNo wonder you worried about getting raped all the time,a he said.

aKept me on my toes, thatas for sure,a Patricia said, and smiled. aBut Iave got Josie now,a she said, and patted the tote bag hanging at her side.

aCan I give you some advice?a Ollie asked. aMan to man?a aMan to man, sure,a she said.

aThere used to be a time when the shield and the gun meant something. You flashed the tin, you pulled the gun, it meant something. Which building?a he asked, and offered his arm.

aYou gonna walk me home?a she asked, looking surprised. aGee.a aIf I lived here,a Ollie said, aIad even walkmyself home.a Patricia laughed.

aIam used to it,a she said.

aThatas because you still think the shield and the gun mean something. They donat, Patricia. You flash the buzzer nowadays, itas an invitation for some punk to shoot you. You pull your Glock, thatas only telling some punk to show you his bigger AK-47. Weare outnumbered and outgunned, Patricia, and thereas too much money to be made in dope. So donat count on Josie,ever, and donat count on your shield, either.a aWhat should I count on, Oll?a aThis,a he said, and tapped his temple with the forefinger of his right hand. aWeare smarter than any of them. Thatas all you have to remember.a aBut throw back your jacket and show the weapon, anyway, right?a she said knowingly.

aWith some of them, it still works,a he said.

aAdmit it,a she said.

aOkay, it still works sometimes.a aWhoas Steve?a she asked.

aI donat know. Whoas Steve?a They were walking up the concrete path to her red brick building. Some teenage boys and girls were sitting on the stoop, under a lamp swarming with the first insects of the season. One of the boys seemed about to say something, either to Patricia about her splendid t.i.ts or Ollie about his splendid girth, but he spotted the Glock and cooled it. Ollie gave him a look that saidWise decision, lad, and walked Patricia into the hallway. In this city, especially on Hamp Bull, too many bad things happened in hallways.

The tiled walls were covered with graffiti.

So were the elevator doors.

aWould you like to come up for a while?a she asked.

aThanks, no, itas late,a he said.

aI had a wonderful time,a she said.

aSo did I, Patricia.a She looked into his eyes. Her face seemed suddenly forlorn.

aWill I ever see you again?a she asked.

aWhat do you mean?a he said, genuinely surprised. aWhy not?a aWell,a she said, and shrugged, and then opened her hands wide to indicate the building and the hallway and the graffiti. aThis,a she said.

aWhere you live is where you live,a he said, and shrugged.

The elevator door slid open.

The elevator was empty.

Ollie put his foot against the door to hold it.

aWell, thanks again,a Patricia said, and took his hand, and then reached up to kiss him on the cheek, surprising him again.

aListen, what are you doing Tuesday night?a he asked.

aNothing,a she said.

aWanna go see a movie?a aSure.a She was still holding his hand. aWill you know aSpanish Eyesa by then?a aI donat think so. I wonat be able to ask Helen for the sheet music till Monday. My piano teacher. Thatas when I have my piano lesson. Monday nights.a aRemember, itas the Al Martino one.a aIall remember. Patriciaa?a aYes?a aI really did have a very nice time tonight.a aI did, too.a aSo Iall see you Tuesday, okay? Are you working Tuesday?a aYes. The day shift.a aMe, too. So maybe we could go straight from the precinctaa aThat sounds goodaa aGrab something to eataa aOkay. But nothing fancy like tonight.a aNo, just a hamburger or something.a aOkay.a aAnd then go to the movies afterward.a aThat sounds good, Oll.a aWeall talk before then, find a movie wead both like to see.a aNot a cop movie,a she said.

aDefinitely not a cop movie.a They were still holding hands.

aWellaa he said. aGoodnight, Patricia.a aGoodnight, Oll.a She dropped his hand, and stepped into the elevator. He watched as she pressed the b.u.t.ton for her floor, waved as the elevator door closed on her. He listened for a moment as the elevator started up the shaft.

Smiling, he walked out of the building and down the steps past the teenage kids, and then up the path to where head parked the car.

His jacket was still thrown back to show the Glock.

aTHIS IS HONEY BLAIRfor Channel Four News, coming to you live from the ballroom deck of theRiver Princess, somewhere in the middle of the River Harb. In about a minute and a half, weall be privileged to see and hear Tamar Valparaiso, the rock worldas new singing sensation, performing live and in person the t.i.tle song from her debut alb.u.m,Banders.n.a.t.c.h. For those of you who may be wondering what on earth a banders.n.a.t.c.h might be, the word derives from Lewis Carrollas poem aJabberwocky,a which some of you may recall from your childhood reading ofThrough the Looking-Gla.s.s. Remember sweet little Alice in Wonderland? Well, from what I understandahold it, Iam getting a signal hereaa Honey looked off camera, striking the familiar aLegs Slightly Aparta pose that had gained her millions of devoted viewers, mostly male, a.s.suming as well the somewhat bewildered expression that made her appear like an innocent trapped in the wilds of TV-Land, a moue that seemed particularly appropriate to the song she was introducing.

aTheyare telling me weave got forty seconds,a she told the microphone and the millions of people who would later be watching the Eleven OaClock News. aI was saying that Tamaras rendering of aBanders.n.a.t.c.haa"if you remember the poema"has nothing to do with childhood fun and games. In fact, what this emerging diva boldly addresses here is the attempted rape of an innocentaten seconds, theyare telling me, you can already see the lights beginning to change behind me, in eight, seven, six, five secondsaladies and gentlemen, hereas Tamar Valparaiso withaBanders.n.a.t.c.ha!a On the video, the song was introduced with a repet.i.tive ba.s.s note strummed on a synthesizer, no melody as yet, just a resounding B-flat note repeated against an animated yellow sky with pastel colored clouds and whimsical budding flowers and fanciful floating insects, a childrenas garden of delights, with the only sound that of the insectsa whirring wings and the resonant synthesizer ba.s.s note.

Here on the ballroom deck of theRiver Princess, the speakers picked up the same repeated note from the video, yes, but of course there wasnat any animated garden. Instead there was only a playful display of lights suggesting the innocence of childhood, and suddenly, in a pale saffron spot that bathed Tamar in its ivory-yellow glow (on the video, she materialized in a field of blooming white flowers) she appeared now from nowhere, it seemed, wearing a short creamy-white tunic, palms flat on her thighs. On both the video and here in this simpler performance aboard the launch, she looked directly out at the audience, raised her hands in open-fingered surprise, grinned in delight at the magnificence of this sparkling new fairyland-day, and began singing a melody she herself had written, a tune that played around a blues figure, hinting at misery to come, but whicha"unlike real bluesa"stayed rooted in the key of B-flat for the first stanza.

a aTwas brillig, and the slithy toves aDid gyre and gimble in the wabe: aAll mimsy were the borogoves, aAnd the mome raths outgrabeaa AVERY HANESwas antic.i.p.ating a swim platform running athwart the boat on the stern, with a narrow vertical ladder going up to the lower deck. Insteada"and he considered this a stroke of absolute good fortunea"a loading platform was in place on the boatas port side, and a proper ladder with side rails and steps, instead of rungs, was pointed up at a forty-five-degree angle toward the boatas second level where, he knew, c.o.c.ktails had been served earlier tonight. The action now was on the lower deck, the ballroom level, the main deck salon where dinner and dessert had been served to a hundred and twelve guests who now sat watching Tamar Valparaiso performing on the parquet dance floor, all unaware. It would have been riskier to board the yacht on that main deck, bursting into the midst of the party, so to speak, although surely this was what they intended to do, anyway. But it would be far better to board on the second level, so handily made accessible by whichever G.o.ds were in charge tonight, and work their way down by stealth to where they eventually wanted to be.

aThe masks,a Avery told Kellie, and she went below to fetch them as he eased the Rinker in alongside the loading platform and cut the engines to idle speed.

BETWEEN STANZASone and two, there was a four-measure interlude in the unrelated key of G, punctuated by drum beats and slashing, off-beat, E-minor power-chords on electric guitars. The drum beats grew louder and more insistent as the synth picked up the B-flat note again, more ominous-sounding now, and Tamaras almost-blues melody reached out with the words of the second stanza, her voice tremulous, her brown eyes wide and darting uneasily, the lights behind her becoming dark and swirling as if in antic.i.p.ation of a sudden storm.

aBeware the Jabberwock, my son!

aThe jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

aBeware the Jubjub bird, and shun aThe frumious Banders.n.a.t.c.h!a BISON RECORDShad used twelve different rubber masks during the shooting of the video, changing colors, shapes, and sizes to achieve the morphing effect they were looking for, the transmogrification of an insistent date-rape hazard into a crazed and violent beast intent on rape and possibly murder.

There were only three masks aboard the Rinker tonight, and they would not be used for effect, merely for disguise.

Avery handed one of them to Kellie.

He himself pulled another one over his head and face.

Cal Wilkins put on the last one.

Kellie took the wheel of the boat.

Both men lifted AK-47s from the deck, came through the gate on the transom entry, and stepped onto the loading platform.

In the ballroom, Tamar Valparaiso was about to soar into the third stanza of aBanders.n.a.t.c.h.a IT WAS STRANGEhow all tension left her the moment she began performing. She knew she had them, each and every one of them, could tell by the pin-dropping silence out there that they were hanging on every word she sang. She was hanging on to each word herself, for that matter, caught in the suspense of the moment she alone had created, waiting for whatever was going to happen next, just like when she was a kid listening to stories her mother told her, and then what, Mama, and then what?