| OCR Text |
Show 49 I could do. They met Malone at the mailboxes, just re-locking the box designated by blue Magic Marker. "She got a letter," said Fogarty. "You're an observant person," said Malone. "Who was it addressed to?" asked Jack9on. Malone turned slowly and seriously on the building's owner. "Did you know," he said, "that giving you that information is a federal offense? Do you want me to go to prison? And don't offer me money," he added, holding up his hand, "because that would make you guilty of trying to bribe a government official." Then he was gone, lumbering on down the street in his heavy hiking boots. "He's the sort of thing that's wrong with this country," said Jackson dejectedly as he walked the hall to number five. Fogarty stayed back in deference to his bad ankle. He would only be a witness to this, not a party to it. Jackson knocked on Sparkle's door. There was no answer. Then he pounded on it. Still there was no answer. "I'll probably have to turn my kids over to an orphanage before this is over," he said, starting up the stairs. "Or maybe I could advertise for foster homes. They're not ugly, not badly behaved. Just a little skinny with malnutrition." Fogarty could hear him knock, then pound, at number nine above. No answer. Back at the bottom of the stairs, a moment later, he again tried five. But the building was silent. "Damn," said Jackson, "and I drove clear over here. Now what am I going to do?" What Fogarty did see him do was strange; he |
