"The microfiche reader," Sachs said. "He smashed it."
"By then I was running as fast as I could. To the fire door. I went down the stairs and when I got to the street I found Keesh and we were going to run. But I was thinking maybe he was going to hurt somebody else. So I turned around and"--she looked at Pulaski--"we saw you."
Sachs asked Lakeesha, "Did you see the attacker?"
"Nothin'. I was just chillin' and then Gen come up, runnin' all fast and buggin' an' ever'thing, you know what I'm sayin'? I didn't see nothin'."
Rhyme asked Sellitto, "The doer killed Barry because he was a witness--what'd he see?"
"He said he didn't see anything. He gave me the names of the museum's white, male employees in case it was one of them. There're two but they checked out. One was taking his daughter to school at the time, the other was in the main office, people around him."
"So, an opportunistic perp," Sachs mused. "Saw her go inside and went after her."
"A museum?" Rhyme asked. "Odd choice."
Sellitto asked both girls, "Did you see anyone following you today?"
Lakeesha said, "We come down on the C train durin' rush hour. Eighth Avenue line . . . be all crowded and nasty. Couldn't see nobody weird. You?"
Geneva shook her head.
"How 'bout recently? Anybody hassling you? Hitting on you?"
Neither of them could think of anybody who'd seemed to be a threat. Embarrassed, Geneva said, "Not exactly a lot of stalkers coming round after me. They'd be looking for a little more booty, you know. Blingier."
"Blingier?"
"Girl mean flashy," translated Lakeesha, who obviously typified both booty and bling. She frowned and glanced at Geneva. "Why you gotta go there, girl? Don't be talkin' trash 'bout yo'self."
Sachs looked at Rhyme, who was frowning. "What're you thinking?"
"Something's not right. Let's go over the evidence while Geneva's here. There might be some things that she can help explain."
The girl shook her head. "That test?" She held up her watch.
"This won't take long," Rhyme said.
Geneva looked at her friend. "You can just make it to study period."
"I'ma stay with you. I can't be sittin' for all them hours in class worryin' 'bout you and ever'thing."
Geneva gave a wry laugh. "No way, girl." She asked Rhyme, "You don't need her, do you?"
He glanced at Sachs, who shook her head. Sellitto jotted down her address and phone number. "We'll call you if we have any more questions."
"Take a pass, girl," she said. "Just kick it an' stay home."
"I'll see you at school," Geneva said firmly. "You'll be there?" Then lifted an eyebrow. "Word?"
Two loud snaps of gum. A sigh. "Word." At the door the girl paused and turned back, said to Rhyme, "Yo, mister, how long fo' you get outa that chair?"
No one said anything to fill the awkward moment. Awkward to everyone, Rhyme supposed, but himself.
"It'll probably be a long time," he said to her.
"Man, that suck."
"Yeah," Rhyme said. "Sometimes it does."