Diesel sauntered in and looked me over. “Am I allowed to smile?”
“As long as you don’t laugh out loud.”
“What happened?”
“It was dark under the pines, and Lula and I sort of fell into a swamp.”
“Where’s Carl?”
“He ran away after he turned all the other monkeys loose. And you were right about Gail’s house. It was the one you picked out from the aerial view of the Barrens. It was empty when I got there. I didn’t see any sign of struggle. Nothing to indicate where Wulf took Gail. Or why he took her.”
“Back up. Other monkeys?”
“About twenty of them in a habitat next to Gail’s house. They were wearing little helmets with antennae on the tops. Carl opened the door, and they all ran off into the woods.”
“Anything else?”
I told him about Martin Munch.
“Where were you?” I asked Diesel. “I tried to reach you when Gail first called me, but you weren’t picking up.”
“I had to solve a problem in Panama.”
“Do I want to know about the problem?”
“No.”
I carefully walked to the bathroom, trying not to dislodge any mud clods, and I took a shower. I blasted my hair with the dryer and put on some clean sweats. I went to the kitchen and looked for food.
“Have you eaten?” I asked Diesel.
“When?”
“Recently.”
“No.”
I considered my choices. Cereal, peanut butter, scrambled eggs, grilled cheese. Hands down, it was grilled cheese. I got everything going in the fry pan and Diesel stood pressed to my back, looking over my shoulder. “Is that for me?”
“Do you want it?”
“Badly” Diesel said.
“I’m talking about the cheese.”
“That, too.”
Diesel ate two grilled-?cheese sandwiches, and I ate one. I was debating cleaning the fry pan or just throwing it away, and Morelli called.
“Just shoot me,” Morelli said. “Put me out of my misery. His wife doesn’t want him back. I don’t blame her. I don’t want him, either, but I’m stuck with him. I can’t get him out of my house. He can barely walk. I’m waiting on him hand and foot. The only thing he can do is work the channel changer. I’ve got a full-?scale gang war going in the projects, and seventeen times a day I get a phone call from Anthony adding things to his gimme list. He wants lip balm. He wants bananas. He wants a TV Guide. He wants beer.”
“I’m really sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“There is. I hate to ask you to do this, but I’m desperate. Can I have the gimme phone calls transferred to you for just one day? I have meetings up my ass tomorrow. I can’t keep taking these phone calls.”
“Sure. Have him call me. Do you know anything about the explosion at the Sky Social Club? Did they find any bodies inside?”
“One. Tentative identification is Doc Weiner. His two stooges were out front and were blown across the street but didn’t get hurt.”