The woman cleared her throat and Malone's gaze came back to her. "I can tell you nothing," she said.
"I don't want to talk to you," Malone said again. "I want to talk to Mike."
Her eyes were very cold. "You from the police, and you want to talk to Mike. You make a joke. Only I don't think the joke is very funny."
"Joke?" Malone said. "You mean Mike's not here?"
Her gaze never wavered. "You know he is not," she said. "Ten minutes ago the policemen were taking him away to the police station. How then could he be here?"
"Ten minutes ago?" Malone blinked. Ten minutes ago he had been looking for this apartment. Probably it hadn't taken Lynch's men ten minutes to find it; they weren't strangers in New York. "He was arrested?" Malone said.
"I said so, didn't I?" the woman said. "You must be crazy or else something." Her eyes were still cold
points, but Malone saw a glow of tears behind them. Mike was her son. She did not seem surprised that the police had taken him away, but she was determined to protect him.
Malone's voice was very gentle. "Why did they arrest him?" he said.
The woman shrugged, a single sharp gesture. "You ask me this?"