Pulse

44

The knocking on Neeve’s apartment door turned out to be a middle-aged man with the looks and bearing of someone thoroughly beaten down by life. He asked for Herb Moranis.

Neeve informed him that Moranis had lived on the first floor but moved away last month. He looked crestfallen, thanked her for the information, and walked meekly toward the stairs.

Neeve stood with her hand still on the knob of the closed door. See, what you were so afraid of? Nervous Neeve.

Someone had chided her with that long ago in her childhood. She couldn’t remember who.

Nervous Neeve.

“I’ve read about your organization in the papers,” Penny said.

Genna Sinclair, a stern-looking woman of forty-five who looked as if she should be carrying a yardstick and terrorizing students, smiled in a way that caused her chin to jut out and convey a definite menace. “Shadow Guardians is having an effect,” she said. “We make it safer for the individual police officer by phoning in crime as we see it develop. Our central office has direct lines to every precinct house in the city.”

Keeping her voice low, since they were in the library, Penny said, “But I don’t know exactly what you mean by crime developing.”

“Say someone is getting bullied on the subway and it looks as if it’s going to develop into a fight or beating. Or a car alarm goes off and you see someone walking away, and the owner of the car hurrying to catch up. Or someone has shoplifted something in a jewelry store and you know the store’s security is going to confront him on the sidewalk, and the security is an old man unarmed. Those kinds of things. You realize they happen more often than you think, once you learn to look for them. And if the police know soon enough about crimes developing-or just committed-they’ll be able to close on the spot sooner and in greater numbers, and be safer.” Genna tapped a button on the dark lapel of her business suit,

lettered SOONER IS S AFER.

“It makes sense,” Penny said.

“Too many cops get hurt or killed because they arrive on the scene without proper backup following in time. And when they get there one at a time, it emboldens the bad guys. A cop might be the only one who knows what’s going down, find himself alone and outnumbered, and bang.”

“That’s my recurring nightmare,” Penny said.

“You contacted us, so you must think our kind of organization is needed.”

“I saw you interviewed on TV and decided to look at your website.”

“And?”

“It seems to make sense.”

Genna flashed her indomitable chin-out smile. “You should come to one of our meetings, then make up your mind. If you think our police should be safer-”

“I do,” Penny interrupted. “My husband is a sort of cop.”

“Sort of?”

“He’s an ex-homicide detective. Now he’s private, with Quinn and Associates Investigations.”

Genna nodded. “Q and A.” She seeming impressed.

“In a way,” Penny said, “it’s more dangerous than regular police work.”

“Then you should definitely attend one of our meetings. We tend to snuff out violence before it has a chance to begin. Preventing violence is the key.”

“Where do you meet?”

“Different places. Sometimes libraries.” She glanced around. Hit Penny with the smile again.

“We don’t have much space,” Penny said, “but maybe after closing time.”

“That would work. I’ll let you know when the next meeting’s scheduled.”

“Fine. Anything I’ll need? I mean, to join?”

“I know it’s hard to get a license,” Genna said, “but it might be a good idea if you owned a gun.”