Bridges and tunnels are clear, but a two-car accident on the B.Q.E. has traffic backed up almost —"
     "Hey Liz."
     "Howard, may I please finish this report?  I've got two other stations to get to."
     "Liz, we heard you threw a party Saturday night."
     "There may be delays due to construction on the upper deck of the George Wash— "
     "We heard the fleet came in and went to your place.  Is that right?"
     "That construction is scheduled to run through the week.  In Jersey, both spurs of the Turnpike are moving well, and the Parkway is — "
     "Hey Liz, is it true your knees are insured with Lloyd's of London?"
     "And the Parkway is congested coming into the Union toll plaza but clear the rest of the way.  This update is brought to you by TicketMall.  When you need a seat for the game or the show, call the Mall and away you go.   Another update in 20 minutes, depending on what my lawyer says. For Traffic Watch, I'm Liz Ramone."
     "Hey Liz?  Don't go away mad."
     "I think it's too late, Howard.  She's gone."
     "You think so, Robin?"
     "I'm surprised she stayed around that long."
     "Well, I guess it's just that time of the month for her."
     "Oh, stop it.  That's your standard line when a woman stands up to you."
     "How can you stand up in a helicopter?  Isn't that dangerous?"
     The quiet clock radio had gradually awakened Cassandra, and now she opened her eyes.  She had a headache and a terrible thirst.  She rose and showered.  When she emerged, in her robe, she followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen, where Rom was just pouring two cups.
     "Good morning," he said.  "I wasn't sure, but aren't you off today?"
     "Yeah, but I'm up anyway."  She accepted a cup.  "What service," she said.  "I could get used to this."
     "I couldn't get used to that sofabed," said Rom.  "It's definitely made for short stays."
     "Well, I paid extra for that."
     At her warm smile,  Rom knew any awkwardness of the previous night had been left behind.  For a moment he remembered her, sitting on the sofa in her robe, crying, when he'd emerged from his cold shower.  She'd apologized profusely for making a fool of herself and ruining their friendship.  He'd assured her she hadn't, and told her that, as desirable as she was, he couldn't get past his vow of celibacy.  What a lie!  He had wanted her fiercely.  But things had moved so fast.  He'd had no condoms with him, and the thought of infecting her had panicked him.
     But after she'd calmed down they'd sat on the sofa awhile, watching The Three Musketeers, the Richard Lester version, and laughed themselves straight.  They'd snacked and chatted, and at bedtime, when she'd offered him the sofabed, he'd accepted.  He'd slept soundly but awakened with a stiff back.  He looked at her now, bent in front of the radio on her kitchen counter, tuning in a station, and wondered if there were a time of day when she did not look beautiful.
    She found her station and straightened up.  "Oh, my head," she said.  "How many bottles of wine did we drink last night?"
     "Counting dinner?  Let's see.  Two valpolicella, one cabernet."
     "Seems like more.  Do you like Howard and Robin?  Have you ever heard them?"
     "Who?"
     "On the radio.  They're an acquired taste, but I like them.  Back in a minute."
     She took her cup into the bedroom and closed the door.  Rom brought his to the window and looked at the sun rising behind the Manhattan skyline.  He sat on the chair near the window, sipped and listened to the radio.  The voice was deep, and the accent professional but occasionally betrayed by Long Island.
     "What do we have here, Fred? Greenstalk?  Ah yes, my good friends at the Greenstalk Restaurant.  Robin, you ate there this weekend, didn't you?"
     "Yes, Howard, and I entertained some friends from out of town, and we all had an excellent dinner."
     "What did you have?"
     "Well, I had the lobster and pasta, as usual."
     "Don't you ever eat anything else?  I mean, every time we — "
     "I like the lobster and pasta there."
     "You're gonna turn into a lobster.  In fact, I thought you smelled kinda funny in the limo this morning."
     "Well, I guess it could be worse.  I could turn into a crab like you."
     "Robin, you're getting as touchy as Liz Ramone.  By the way, did you hear there were some sailors yodeling up her canyon Saturday night?"
     "Do tell."
     "That's right.  Several of them actually fell into the canyon and had to be rescued."
     "Fascinating, Howard.  Now what about the Greenstalk?"
     "What about the Greenstalk?  Ahhhh.  We've only done about 10,000 commercials for this place.  Let's face it, I'm bored."
     "Obviously.  But the food isn't boring."
     "That it's not, Robin.  My good friends Mike and Sergio, while very boring themselves, certainly have some exciting dishes there.  What did your friends have?"
     "Well, Eddie tried the tortolini dish, and was most impressed, and Marcia had that chicken with apples your wife likes so much."
     "Oh yes, I tried that. it's excellent.  They bring out this chicken with a little apple stuffed in its beak."
     "Now, they do not!  The apples are cooked with the chicken, and it's delicious."
     "OK, OK, I was only kidding.  Don't blow a gasket.  You'd think it was your time of the month, too."
     "Can we talk about the Greenstalk, Howard?"
     "Tell me, Robin, is it that time of month, or is that lobster I smell?"
     "No, it's not.  And I should mention that we had great service, and my friends mentioned the excellent bar at the Greenstalk."
     "Yes indeed, the Greenstalk.  They have two locations, one near Rockefeller Center and one in Garden City, Long Island, where of course many celebrities hang out."
     "Howard, what celebrities hang out in Garden City?"
     "I don't know.  The ones who couldn't get a table in Manhattan."
     "I see.  Well, the one in Garden City is every bit as nice as the one over here."
     "That's right, Robin, and if you go there, maybe you'll see Liz Ramone.  She lives out on the Island, doesn't she?"
     "Liz lives in New Jersey, Howard."
     "Jeez.  Nobody lives in New York.  Ten million people in this city, and nobody lives here!"
     "Everybody lives in New Jersey."
     "They're all in Jersey.   Liz Ramone, and doesn't that Zorro guy live in Jersey?"
     "Yes, I was going to talk about him on the news."
     "Yeah, what a nut!"
     Rom sat up.  From the bedroom, Cassandra yelled.  "Rom!  Are you listening?"
     "Well, it is about news time, isn't it, Howard?"
     "Um, yes it is. It's 22 — did we finish Greenstalk?"
     "Yes we did.  Two locations, Rockefeller Center and Garden City."
     "Thank you, Robin.  It's 22 minutes past six on the Howard Stern show.  Later on we've got Mr. Cuomo's Neighborhood and Tattooed Lesbian Dial-a-Date, so don't go away. You're on 92-point-five, WBLT New York, and here's Robin Quivers with the news. Robin?"
     "Thank you, Howard.  Well, we may as well lead off with New York's newest celebrity.  Police say that over the weekend a lone vigilante dubbed the Son of Zorro made several appearances in the New York area, including an incident in Central Park where he thwarted a mugging and stole a policeman's horse all at the same time."
     "Hey, whose side is this guy on?"
     "Apparently he's on the side of the law, Howard.  I've been piecing these reports together, and it looks like he first appeared, wearing black clothes and a mask, in Newark Thursday night, where he recovered a boy's stolen bicycle and sent a couple of young thugs to the emergency room after slamming them in the face with a railroad tie."
     "Yeah!"
     Cassandra came into the living room with the coffee pot and filled Rom's cup.  "You're a celebrity!" she said.
     Robin continued.  "Friday night, also in Newark, he came to the aid of a young woman who was being threatened by drug dealers behind an apartment house.  Two people were hurt in that episode, both apparently the alleged assailants.  One got stabbed in the neck with his own knife, and the other got hit in the face with a hubcap."
     "A hubcap?"
     "That's what it says.  Anyway, Saturday was a big day for the Son of Zorro.  The masked vigilante was Johnny-on-the-spot at an anti-Columbus rally in Columbus Circle that turned violent.  I'm sure you saw footage of that on the weekend news.  Zorro came to the rescue of TV reporter Melody Marven, who was being attacked by a group of bottle throwers as she was broadcasting a report on the rally.  This went out live over the air, by the way."
     "Melody Marven?  From our sister station?"
     "That's the one."
     "Ooooh, would I like to get into her pants."
     "Oh, please!"
     "I met her a couple times, Robin.  There was so much sexual tension in the air, we could barely maintain eye contact."
     "Were you looking at her eyes, Howard?"
     "You know, Robin, if I could have 20 minutes in bed with Melody and Liz Ramone at the same time, I'd never ask for anything again."
     "Well, you wouldn't have to ask for a divorce.  Your wife would give you one gladly."
     "It would be worth it."
     "Be that as it may, it seems a few of the assembled crowd started to give Melody and her interview guest a bad time, and bottles and trash started flying, and the crowd started closing in on them, when — "
     "Zorro!"
     "The Son of Zorro appeared from out of nowhere, ran over to her and kept the mob at bay until the police arrived.  Did you see the front page of Sunday's News?"
     "Yeah.  He drop-kicked that guy, didn't he?"
     "That'll stop you in your tracks!  Anyway, there were no arrests in the incident, and the vigilante slipped away into the park."
     "He probably lives there with the Manson family."
     "I'm sure Melody was glad to see him."
     "Let's call her.  Gary, see if you can get Melody Marven over at the TV station.  We gotta ask her about this.  Did she score with him, Robin?"
     "That wasn't mentioned in any of the reports I read, Howard, but let's ask her."
     "OK, so where does the horse come in?"
     "I'm getting to that."
     "Did Melody score with the horse?"
     "I really couldn't tell you."
     "Did Liz Ramone score with the horse?"
     "I'm sure you'll ask her during the next traffic update."
     "I'm making a note, Robin."
     "Anyway, just a few hours later, a mounted policeman heard a gunshot near the Central Park reservoir.  He rode over to the jogging path — people go jogging there at night, you know— "
     "Go figure those idiots."
     "From what the police can figure out, the Son of Zorro had disarmed a mugger, and one of his two victims had grabbed the gun while Zorro and the mugger slugged it out.  The jogger apparently shot the mugger in the face, but before Zorro could slip away again—  "
     "Who was that masked man?"
     "Before he could get away, the cop arrived, and apparently, in the confusion, the jogger shot at the cop, too. Now the cop wasn't hit, but the noise apparently spooked the horse, who threw the cop off. He landed hard and got knocked out, but he's OK."
     "The cop or the horse?"
     "The cop.  The Son of Zorro grabbed the horse and rode away into the night, once again eluding capture.  We have a new hero, Howard."
     "So the bad guy got shot in the face?"
     "Yes.  He's in the hospital in serious condition, and when he gets out he'll be charged, according to police.  And one of the joggers was hurt when the vigilante leapt from a footbridge and landed on him.  He's described as a 35-year-old Manhattan restaurant owner."
     "It wasn't Mike or Sergio from the Greenstalk, was it, Robin?  I know they like to jog around Central Park at night and pick up young boys."
     "Howard!  Stop that!  Both Mike and Sergio have lovely wives.  You've met them."
     "Oh, that's right.  Say, didn't Mike's wife have a baseball card collection in a shoebox when we met the last time?"
     "Mike, if you're listening, Howard is hallucinating."
     "That's it, Robin.  Must have been all that LSD I did in the ‘60s.  But at least I never put on a mask and jumped off a footbridge!"
     "So far as I know, Howard, you never did, and I give you credit for that."
     "Thank you."
     "Just to wrap up the story, the horse was found a short time later.  It just returned to the park police stables, without the Son of Zorro.  Police are seeking him for questioning in the matter."
     "The horse?"
     "No, the Son of Zorro."
     "Oh."
     "By the way, Howard, the injured victim says he's going to sue the city for inadequate protection."
     "What?!  What was the dumb schmuck doing there in the first place?"
     "Just jogging, I guess."
     "Jesus!  Why doesn't he just jog in Bedford-Stuy?"
     "Well, maybe he has a death wish.  He also claimed the vigilante stole his watch, so go figure."
     "Wait a minute, Robin.  I've just been handed a note by our producer.  Melody is — what the hell does this say?  Gary, get back here and translate this for me.  What's this word?"
     "Assignment."
     "She's on assignment.  What's she doing?  Get on that microphone."
     "She's traveling with Mayor Fazio today, boss.  Her office says she's doing a story on the campaign."
     "It's 6:30 in the morning, for God's sake."
     "Well, it's election time," said Robin.  "The mayor is up early pressing the flesh."
     "I'd rather press Melody's flesh.  Do you think she'd go for me, Robin?"
     "I couldn't say, Howard."
     "Boss?"
     "What is it, Gary?"
     "They said she'd call you as soon as she could."
     "Thank you.  Now get outta here before I jump off a footbridge and break your leg."
     Some commercials began, and Rom used the time to visit the bathroom.  Soon he heard Cassandra shout to him.  "Melody just called in!"  He joined her in the kitchen to listen.
     " . . . No, he wasn't wearing tights, Howard.  Just regular black pants, I think."
     "Did he sweep you up in his arms and carry you off to his Batcave?"
     "This was Zorro, not Batman."
     "Zorro-schmorro.  What I want to know is, why did he come over and rescue you, of all people?"
     "I don't know, Howard.  I just know I was very glad to see him."
     Robin spoke up.  "We can understand that, Melody.  We saw the news clip."
     "They were not a friendly crowd."
     "Where were your people?  Didn't you have a crew there?"
     "Yes, well, Fitz Lopez was filming, and it happened so fast that by the time he dropped his camera and got over to me, the police had arrived and Zorro had taken off."
     "Fitz Lopez?!" laughed Howard.  "Who is that, a Scottish Mexican?  Hoot, señor!"
     "John Fitzgerald Lopez is a fine cameraman and a very brave man.  Remember, Howard, at this point the crowd was beating up on Zorro.  They had him down on the ground, and several people were getting in my face and pushing and shoving, things like that.  It felt very good to see Fitz heading over toward us."
     Rom and Cassandra broke into applause.  "That's our boy Lopez!" said Rom.
     "So it was just the two of you?" asked Howard.
     "Well, my guest had been hit in the head with something, and he went after somebody in the crowd.  Our sound man was starting to throw equipment in the van."
     "The equipment?" said Howard.  "You're in danger and he's worried about the equipment?"
     "Well, he's been reassigned, Howard."
     "Reassigned, eh?"
     Robin laughed.  "He'll never work in this town again."
     "Well, he made a bad decision," Howard said.  "What a weenie.  So how did this Zorro guy strike you?  Was his costume neat and pressed?"
     "It wasn't really a costume, Howard, just black shirt and pants and a black scarf on his head.  And, of course, a black mask."
     "Was he wearing his underwear on the outside, like Superman?"
     "I don't think so, Howard.  I would have remembered that."
     "Did he examine you with his X-ray vision?  I sure would have.  I watch you on the news all the time.  What're you packing there?  I'd say a 36-B.  No, C.  Am I right?"
     "None of your business, you pervert."
     "Oh, some guy in a mask and a scarf is jumping off bridges in the park, and I'm a pervert?"
     Rom felt his face redden; Cassandra laughed out loud.
     "So listen, Melody," said Howard.  "You spoke with Gary, our producer, and he says you have a reward for Zorro?"
     "Well, I don't have it with me, but I would like to express my gratitude."
     Cassandra's eyebrows went up.
     "Hmmm," said Howard.  "I bet you would.  Where are you now?"
     "Believe it or not, we're on our way to Gracie Mansion.  I'm spending the day with Mayor Fazio for a special election report.  It's— "
     "Oh, is this one of those things where you spend, like, every moment with her?"
     "More or less."
     "So who'll be driving, you or the mayor?"
     "Probably Sgt. Ruiz."
     "Aha!  Sgt Ruiz!  Who's that?"
     "Her bodyguard.  Excuse me, her security.  He's very professional and very sweet."
     "I see.  Do you think the mayor likes you?" asked Howard.
     "I think she respects my abilities, and she's been very gracious to me all the time I've been on this job."
     "She respects your work?"
     "I'd say so, yes."
     "Did she mention that trout-in-the-toilet piece?  I think that won an Emmy, didn't it?"
     Robin interrupted the laughter in the studio.  "Howard, be nice to Melody. It's early."
     "Yes, Howard, be nice to me."
     "OK, I'm sorry.  Don't get upset.  Listen, you say you have a present for Zorro?"
     "Yes, I do."
     "Melody," said Robin, "how are you going to find him?  Did he slip you his phone number?"
     "Did he slip you his tongue?" asked Howard.
     "I'm hanging up now," said Melody.
     "Wait!" said Howard.  "How will you find him to give him your present?"
     "I don't know.  Got any ideas?"
     "He's probably back in Bellevue by now," Howard said.  "All he had was a weekend pass."
     "Well, I would like to thank him.  I never got the chance."
     "No, he had to leave in a hurry.  He had a date with a horse."
     "Maybe he's listening now, Howard."
     "He probably is, knowing the caliber of our listeners.  Shall we invite him on the show?  Think he'll come?"
     "If you can get him there, I'll try to drop by," said Melody.  "The mayor will be in conference from, let's see, nine to ten o'clock.  That gives you two hours to find him."
     "Well, we'll try.  Listen, Zorro, or Son of Zorro, if you're out there, Melody Marven wants to give you something.  And if you don't take it, you're crazy.  Our studio's at 600 Madison Avenue in Manhattan. Melody, you'll be here?"
     "I think so, but I'll have to be out of there by ten."
     "Our show is over at ten, remember?  So what is this gift?  Does it have a beard and smell like tuna?"
     "That's it!  See you later, Howard.  Bye, Robin."
     "Are you sure you want to do this, Melody?" asked Robin.
     "No, but I guess I've committed myself."
     "Listen, Melody," said Howard.  "Are you sure you'll know this guy when you see him?  I mean, he was wearing a mask."
     "I'll know him, Howard.  When he came to my aid he said something, um, unusual to me, so I'll know him, definitely."
     "Excellent.  By the way, was he wearing a bad toupee?"
     "I gotta go, Howard, we're at Gracie Mansion."
     "Melody, wait!  Do you think the mayor sits down to pee?  Melody?"  The connection clicked shut.
     Robin groaned.  "I think that's a sore topic, Howard."
     "It doesn't matter, Robin.  We're making radio history here.  Ladies and gentlemen, Melody Marven, from our sister station, WBLT-TV: reporter, toupee critic, damsel in distress, tuna maven.  She'll be here with a reward for her hero, the masked man of Central Park."
     "Wake up, Zorro," said Robin.  "Get dressed."
     "Yeah, if you leave Bellevue now, you can just make it by nine."
     Rom and Cassandra looked at each other.