Chapter 4: Court Three

Finn put down his coffee very carefully.

"Robbie. When?"

"After her foot. She had the black boot on in the lobby, and then she took it off in the locker room and played on court two."

"How do you know it was after?"

"Because the boot." Robbie said it like we were slow. "You don't wear a boot before."

"Who did she play with?"

"A man with a ponytail. She won." He thought. "Then another time. I don't remember the other time. There was pizza."

Finn looked at me over his son's head.

"It's not evidence," I said gently.

"He saw her."

"He's nine. He saw a woman with platinum hair and a pink bag on some day after some other day. Chris would take him apart in four minutes."

Robbie scowled.

"I'd say no to him."

"I know you would." I crouched down to his height. "But I'm never putting you in a courtroom."

"You're going to help me a different way. Remember everything you can and tell your dad. I'll go find the proof grown-ups can't argue with."

He considered this for a while.

"Okay. But I'm still right."

"I think you probably are."

On Saturday the three of us took the early train to New York.

The front-desk manager came too.

She'd run the Manhattan desk for its first year.

She said she wasn't letting two men and a lawyer walk into her club without her.

Haverty's Manhattan was on West 26th Street, in an old printing building with tall windows.

Court three was at the end of the hall.

I walked the length of it in my sneakers, slowly, looking at the boards.

"Which one?"

Finn pointed near the front wall.

"She says there. Fourth board from the tin, a little left of center."

"It looks like every other board."

"It is. We replaced it on April sixth. Our insurer told us to."

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