“thank you, officer.” paddy put the phone down.
“they don’t have anyone that looks like her as missing from anywhere, or anybody looking for her,” he told connie. “but they will send an officer over to talk to her.”
“all right. i will be on the lookout for him. excuse me, somebody just came in.” connie put her tray under her arm and headed over to a table near the one she had parked cherilda at.
a respectable looking gentleman in a tweed suit and a trilby hat had sat down at the table, with his back to cherilda, and was making himself comfortable and opening a big book which he had just taken out of what must have been a very big pocket.
connie recognized him as a customer whom she had seen a few times before. he called himself doctor something or other, was kind of chatty, ordered the special but no liquor, and left a pretty good tip. was he really a doctor? probably not. doctor of what? but who cared?
“good evening, doctor,” connie greeted him. as she did she noticed that cherilda, behind his back, seemed to be glaring at him.
“good evening, miss,” the “doctor” replied, putting down his big book, which was entitled “the encyclopedia of the unexplained” . “ i hoped to schedule my arrival tonight to coincide with the beef stew, and i see that i succeeded.”
“ha, ha! mom tries to mix it up and surprise people, but i see you are too sharp for us, doctor,” connie said.
the doctor tapped the encyclopedia of the unexplained. “it is all written in the cosmos, miss, if one knows how to read it.”
“of course. did you want something to drink - ? “
“i know you, professor mcgraw!” cherilda’s voice broke in. “you think you have me now, but you just wait -“
connie tried to ignore her, and kept smiling, but cherilda continued , in a louder voice, “but i have other plans, and will foil yours!”
“is that a radio on behind us?” the doctor asked connie. he turned and met cherilda’s baleful gaze.
“we meet again. professor,” cherilda addressed him. “hopefully, for the last time.”
“i am afraid there has been some mistake,” the doctor began, but connie moved between him and cherilda.
“honey, you have to behave yourself. if you can’t, i am going to have to ask you to leave. i know this nice gentleman, and he’s a perfect gentleman, take it from me.”
“a gentleman! “ cherilda shouted, loudly enough to attract the attention of the poets at their table. “he’s a fiend!”
the door opened and a young police officer entered. he took a look around and saw connie remonstrating with cherilda and stepped forward.
“is this the lady we received a call about?” he asked connie.
“yes, she is.”
“i am officer ignatius donnelly, from precinct 17. what seems to be the problem?” he looked down at cherilda with a friendly gaze.
“there is no problem,” cherilda answered in a sullen little girl’s voice, looking down at the table.
“well, then,” donnelly began, but the squeak of the doctors chair as he turned back to his own table distracted him.
donnelly glanced over and saw the doctor trying to bury his face in his book.
“professor mcgraw!” the young policeman exclaimed.
the doctor - professor made the best of it and put his book back down. “do i know you, officer?”
“i know you. how long have you been out of sing sing? i guess you didn’t escape, or i would have heard about it.”
“no, officer, i did not escape. i served my time, every minute of it. i am not on parole, i am a free man.“
“hooked your wagon to any rich old ladies yet?”
“no, young man, i have not found any new friends - or old friends, for that matter, to welcome me back into the world. if i had, i might be dining in somewhat more elegant quarters - not that i wish to slight this fine establishment. as it is, had hoped to enjoy a quiet home cooked meal in this comfortable little oasis in the great diabolical metropolis - but, alas, trouble always finds me.”
“to be sure. well, professor, keep your nose clean and wear your rubbers when it rains. now, back to what i came here for -“
donnelly turned around, and connie pointed to the door. cherilda had escaped into the night.
“on who? nobody worth scamming comes into this place. she seemed legit to me. legitimately crazy.”
“we will probably never know,” paddy mused. “and we will probably never see her again.”
the poets table had broken up, but seamas macseamas the irish poet was sitting alone at the bar and had been listening to connie’s and paddy’s conversation.
“i have the sixth sight,” seamas, completely inebriated, announced, “and i tell you she will be back.”
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