〃Help！〃 she bellowed。 〃Police！ I hope you're proud of yourself； robbing the Salvation Army。 Shithead！〃
〃Obliged； ma'am；〃 Pendergast said； crumpling a hundred…dollar bill and tossing it over his shoulder as he jumped into the backseat。 D'Agosta laid on the gas； leaving a streak of rubber and a cloud of smoke。
〃I daresay that was no more than a two…minute detour；〃 Pendergast said from the rear of the car。 Looking into the mirror； D'Agosta saw he was peeling off his jacket and tie。
〃Two minutes is a long time in this business。〃
〃I'll have to send the Salvation Army people a little something to make up for my lack of manners。〃
〃They're heading into East Side Park。〃
〃Very good。 Drive around the park； if you please； and enter from the south。 I need a few more moments。〃
D'Agosta drove past the park…a wall of greenery to his left； rising above a concrete retaining wall…and made a left onto Derrom Avenue。 Despite their proximity to seedy； sorry…looking Broadway； the houses here were remarkably large and well tended； relics of the days when Paterson had been a model city of industry。
Pendergast intoned from the back：
〃Eternally asleep； his dreams walk about the city where he persists incognito。〃
D'Agosta glanced again in the rearview mirror； almost jamming on the brakes in surprise when he saw a stranger staring back at him。 But； of course； it was no stranger： it was Pendergast； transformed by some almost miraculous process of disguise。
〃Have you ever read Paterson by William Carlos Williams？〃 the vagrant in the backseat asked。
〃Never heard of it。〃
〃Pity〃
〃Immortal he neither moves nor rouses and is seldom seen； though he breathes and the subtleties of his machinations drawing their substance from the noise of the pouring river animate a thousand automatons。〃
D'Agosta shook his head and muttered to himself。 He drove a few blocks； made another left； and entered the park beside a statue of Christopher Columbus。
East Side Park was an overgrown hillock of grass and the occasional shade tree； closely hemmed in on all four sides by houses。 A lane wandered around its periphery； and D'Agosta eased the car onto it； passing a variety of pudding…stone outbuildings in various stages of disrepair。 Concrete benches with green…painted wooden slats lined the roadway。 Farther along； the lane veered in toward a height of land； which was crowned by a fountain surrounded by a black wrought…iron fence。 Several cars were parked along the curb here； including their own lead vehicle； making the already narrow road almost impassable。 Ahead； D'Agosta could see the TV van。 It had pulled onto the grass between a brace of tennis courts and a baseball field。 On the field itself； a small knot of kids was shooting off model rockets； supervised by half a dozen parents。 A man with a television camera was standing by the van； filming the event。
〃This is an exceptionally well planned meeting； Vincent；〃 Pendergast said as they drove slowly past。 〃They're meeting in the middle of a park。 No chance of being ambushed。 And they're surrounded by noisy children and the roar of rockets； which will defeat any long…range electronic surveillance。 That man with the camera is their lookout； with a perfect reason to be staring every which way through a telephoto lens。 Bullard has clearly trained his men well。 Ah； pull over a minute； please； Vincent： here e the Chinese。〃
In the rearview mirror； D'Agosta could make out a long black Mercedes； absurdly out of place； cruising slowly up the park drive behind them。 It pulled onto the grass across the tennis courts from the van。 Two big men with shaved heads and dark glasses got out； looking around carefully。 Then a third； smaller man exited and began walking across the grass toward the van。
〃What dreadful lack of subtlety；〃 said Pendergast。 〃It appears these gentlemen have been watching too much television。〃
D'Agosta eased the car forward； ing to a stop near the exit back onto Broadway。 The hill fell away here and the trees were more numerous； blocking their car from view。
〃Too bad I'm in uniform；〃 he said。
〃On the contrary： being in uniform； you will be the last one they suspect。 I'm going to get as close as I can； see if I can learn more particulars about the meeting。 You buy a donut and coffee over there〃…he nodded to a dingy coffee shop across Broadway…〃then wander into the park。 Take a seat on one of the benches by the baseball diamond； where you'll have a clear line of fire should anything untoward occur。 Let us hope； with these children around； that nothing of the sort occurs…but be ready for action regardless。〃
D'Agosta nodded。
Pendergast gave his eyes a vigorous rubbing。 When his grubby hands fell away again； his eyes had lost their clear； silvery hue。 Now they belonged to a tippler： uncertain； watery； red…rimmed。
D'Agosta watched Pendergast get out of the car and amble back up the rise。 The agent was wearing a brown sport coat of dubious material； a faded stain between the shoulders； double…knit slacks a size too large； a pair of shabby Hush Puppies。 His hair was several shades darker than usual…just how the hell had he managed that？…and his face was in need of a wash。 He looked exactly like a man who was down but not quite out； clinging to a few shreds of respectability。 And it wasn't just the clothes： his very gait had changed to a vague shuffle； his body language tentative； his eyes darting this way and that； as if prepared to ward off an unexpected blow。
D'Agosta stared another moment； marveling。 Then he exited the car； bought a coffee and a glazed donut in the coffee shop across the street； and headed back into the park。 As he crested the little rise and approached the diamond； he could see the shorter Chinese man getting into the back of the television van。 His large panions were hanging back about forty paces； arms crossed。
There was awhooosh as a model rocket went off to scattered cheers and clapping。 All eyes turned skyward； there was a pop and the rocket came drifting back； floating beneath a red…and…white…striped miniature parachute。
D'Agosta eased himself onto a bench across the diamond from the van。 He slipped the lid off his coffee； pretending to watch the rockets go off。 This was strange： the would…be cameraman was now calling the kids together； apparently to film them。 D'Agosta wondered if the cameraman was Chait； Bullard's main man in New York。 He decided otherwise： Chait was no doubt inside the van with the Chinese honcho。
He turned his attention back to Pendergast。 The agent was strolling along the walkway near the van。 He paused； fished a racing form out of the trash； shook it clear of debris； then stopped to chat with the cameraman。 It looked like he might be asking him for money。 The man scowled and shook his head； motioning Pendergast to move on。 Then the man turned back toward the children； gesturing for them to line up with their rockets。
D'Agosta felt a knot tighten in his stomach。 Why the hell was the man organizing the kids like that； anyway？ Something did not feel right at all。
Meanwhile； Pendergast had seated himself on the bench next to the van； so close he could almost touch it； and was going through the racing form with a pencil stub； circling various horses and making notes。
Then…inexplicably…Pendergast stood up； went to the back door of the van； and knocked。
The cameraman came striding over immediately； gesticulating furiously； shoving Pendergast aside。 D'Agosta resisted the impulse to reach for his gun。 The back doors of the van opened； there was some loud talk； the doors slammed shut。 The cameraman gestured angrily for Pendergast to move off； but instead； the agent shrugged and seated himself back down on the bench； returning to his study of the racing form； perusing it with languid ease； just as if he had all the money in the world to blow on the horses。
D'Agosta looked around。 The two plainclothes FBI agents were strolling along the far side of the baseball diamond； talking。 The Chinese goons didn't seem to have noticed them。 Their attention was riveted on the van and what was going on inside。 They seemed ready for something。Too ready。 And there w