Iron Orchid (Holly Barker 5)

“Describe this Jeff Snyder.”

“About my height, with a big nose and a handlebar mustache. On the thin side.”

“The mustache?”

“No, that was thick. His build was on the thin side.”

“What was he wearing?”

“A kind of car coat and a cap, you know, like golfers wear? Like Ben Hogan?”

“Where did you meet?”

“A

t the entrance to the subway station at Twenty-third and Lex. He came out of the subway, I think.”

“What do you mean, you think?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly see him come out of the subway; I just assumed that’s how he got to the corner. I didn’t see him get out of a cab or a car.”

“And he paid you three thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills for your scooter?”

“It was a fair price; the scooter had only twelve hundred miles on it. Not a scratch. Pristine.”

“And you’re sticking to this story?”

“Lady, it’s the only story I got,” Bernie said heatedly. “It’s what happened.”

Holly got up and walked out the door. Lance and Kerry were waiting for her on the other side of the mirror.

“What do you think?” Lance asked.

“I think he’s telling the truth. It was a slick way for Teddy to get the scooter he needed without stealing it and running the risk of getting pulled over. Obviously, the big nose and the handlebar mustache were a disguise. A witness would concentrate on features like that. I’m surprised that Bernie, here, gave us as good a description as he did.”

“Cut him loose?” Lance asked Kerry.

“Sure,” Kerry replied. “We’ll know where to find him, if we need him again.”

“Oh,” Lance said, “the NYPD found the scooter, and they’re processing it for prints.”

“They won’t find any,” Holly said. “Where did they locate the scooter?”

“Parked between two cars on East Twenty-fourth Street, off Lexington.”

“It’s the subway,” Holly said.

“What?”

“Bernie said he met Teddy at the subway entrance at Twenty-third and Lex. That’s how Teddy got there, and it’s how he went home. I’ll bet you he lives within a block or two of the Lexington Avenue subway.”

“Possibly,” Lance said. “How is that going to help us?”

“Let’s put somebody on the subway eight hours a day and have him photograph every possible person who fits Teddy’s description as to height, weight and age.”

“You’re talking about thousands of people,” Kerry said.

“All right,” Holly said, “skip rush hour at both ends; Teddy probably would, since he doesn’t have to be at work anywhere. Photograph all the sixtyish, tallish, slenderish men between, say, ten and four, every day for a week, then run… no, we don’t have any photographs to compare them to… show the photographs to people who worked with Teddy at the agency. Maybe somebody will give us a positive I.D., and if we get that, then we’ll have a photograph to circulate.”