Teddy looked back at the rising column of smoke and dust. “I don’t know,” he said, “but let’s get the hell out of here.”
The driver stomped on the accelerator.
EIGHTEEN
HOLLY AND LEE ARRIVED at the Holiday Inn at seven, had a drink at the half-empty bar, then went into the dining room for dinner.
Lee looked over the menu. “No Chinese noodles,” she said.
“Looks like the steak is a safe bet,” Holly replied.
“I’m game.”
They ordered dinner and another drink. “So, Lee,” Holly said, “what brings you to Virginia?”
“Oh, I drove down to see Monticello,” Lee said smoothly, “and it was too late to drive back to New York.”
“Where do you live in New York?”
“Mott Street, in Chinatown. My parents have a laundry and a restaurant there.”
“What do you do?”
“I keep books for my father and do the ordering for the restaurant. What about you? What do you do?”
“I teach second grade in D.C. I came down here to see my parents and thought I’d stay the night before driving back.”
“Where’d you go to school?”
“At Georgetown.”
The two women continued quizzing each other, running through their legends, until dinner arrived.
“Well, that’s enough of that,” Lee said. “Who are you, really?”
“I’m Harry One,” Holly said, “and you’re Harry Three.”
Lee grinned. “I thought I might trip you up.”
Holly grinned back. “Not as easily as that.”
They finished dinner and went back into the bar for a nightcap. Holly looked carefully at every face; she didn’t want to run into Whitey Thompson, off his usual beat. She felt for the gun at her waist, too.
“You carrying?” Lee whispered.
“It was suggested that I should,” Holly whispered back.
“You worried about running into the instructor guy?”
“Yes.”
“Is that why you didn’t want to go to Buster’s?”
“Yes, it’s his regular hangout, I’m told.” Holly looked up at the TV over the bar, which was tuned to CNN. Somebody was reporting from a helicopter over New York. The camera panned from a shot of the U.N. to a nearby street, then zoomed in closer to reveal a large gap between two townhouses with a big pile of rubble at the bottom. “Excuse me,” she said to the bartender, “can you turn that up for a minute, please?”
“The explosion occurred late this afternoon,” the reporter was saying, “and no one has any idea if anyone was inside the house. Firemen can’t even start going through the rubble until the houses on either side of the site can be shored up. Although the police are refusing comment, we’ve heard from sources inside the department that the explosion is thought to be connected with the upcoming meeting of heads of state at the U.N. We’ll keep you posted as details come in. Now back to the studio.”
“Thanks,” Holly said to the bartender. “You can turn it back down.”