Eight Million Ways To Die

"But for what? I could even lie my way into being his wife or girlfriend or something. And I could give up this apartment and drop my john book in the incinerator. But for what?" She looked at me. "I've got a good life. I save my money. I always saved my money."

"And invested it," I remembered. "Real estate, isn't it? Apartment houses in Queens?"

"Not just Queens. I could retire now if I had to and I'd get by all right. But why would I want to retire and what do I need with a boyfriend?"

"Why did Kim Dakkinen want to retire?"

"Is that what she wanted?"

"I don't know. Why did she want to leave Chance?"

She thought it over, shook her head. "I never asked."

"Neither did I."

"I've never been able to understand why a girl would have a pimp in the first place, so I don't need an explanation when somebody tells me she wants to get rid of one."

"Was she in love with anybody?"

"Kim? Could be. She didn't mention it if she was."

"Was she planning to leave the city?"

"I didn't get that impression. But she wouldn't tell me if she was, would she?"

"Hell," I said. I put my empty cup on the end table. "She was involved someway with someone. I just wish I knew who."

"Why?"

"Because that's the only way I'm going to find out who killed her."

"You think that's how it works?"

"That's usually how it works."

"Suppose I got killed tomorrow. What would you do?"

"I guess I'd send flowers."

"Seriously."

"Seriously? I'd check tax lawyers from Merrick."

"There's probably a few of them, don't you think?"

"Could be. I don't suppose there's too many who spent a week in Barbados this month. You said he stayed at the next hotel down the beach from you? I don't think he'd be hard to find, or that I'd have much trouble tying him to you."

"Would you actually do all that?"

"Why not?"

"No one would be paying you."

I laughed. "Well, you and I, we go back a ways, Elaine."

And we did. When I was on the force we'd had an arrangement. I helped her out when she needed the kind of hand a cop could provide, whether with the law or with an unruly john. She, in turn, had been available to me when I wanted her. What, I wondered suddenly, had that made me? Neither pimp nor boyfriend, but what?

"Matt? Why did Chance hire you?"

"To find out who killed her."

"Why?"

I thought of the reasons he'd given. "I don't know," I said.

"Why'd you take the job?"

"I can use the money, Elaine."

"You don't care that much about money."

"Sure I do. It's time I started providing for my old age. I've got an eye on these apartment houses in Queens."

"Very funny."

"I'll bet you're some landlady. I'll bet they love it when you come around to collect the rent."

"There's a management firm that takes care of all that. I never see my tenants."

"I wish you hadn't told me that. You just ruined a great fantasy."

"I'll bet."

I said, "Kim took me to bed after I finished the job for her. I went over there and she paid me and then afterward we went to bed."

"And?"

"It was like a tip, almost. A friendly way of saying thank you."

"Beats ten dollars at Christmas time."

"But would she do that? If she was involved with somebody, I mean. Would she just go to bed with me for the hell of it?"

"Matt, you're forgetting something."

She looked, for just a moment, like somebody's wise old aunt. I asked what I was forgetting.

"Matt, she was a hooker."

"Were you a hooker in Barbados?"

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe I was and maybe I wasn't. But I can tell you this much. I was damn glad when the mating dance was over and we were in bed together because for a change I knew what I was doing. And going to bed with guys is what I do."

I thought a moment. Then I said, "When I called earlier you said to give you an hour. Not to come over right away."

"So?"

"Because you had a john booked?"

"Well, it wasn't the meter reader."

"Did you need the money?"

"Did I need the money? What kind of question is that? I took the money."

"But you would have made the rent without it."

"And I wouldn't have missed any meals, or had to wear the panty hose with the runs in it. What's this all about?"

"So you saw the guy today because that's what you do."

"I suppose."

"Well, you're the one who asked why I took the job."

"It's what you do," she said.

"Something like that."

She thought of something and laughed. She said, "When Heinrich Heine was dying— the German poet?"

"Yeah?"

"When he was dying he said, 'God will pardon me. It's His profession.' "

"That's not bad."

"It's probably even better in German. I shtup and you detect and God pardons." She lowered her eyes.

"I just hope He does," she said. "When it's my turn in the barrel, I hope He's not down in Barbados for the weekend."

Chapter 13

When I left Elaine's the sky was growing dark and the streets were thick with rush-hour traffic. It was raining again, a nagging drizzle that slowed the commuters to a crawl. I looked at the swollen river of cars and wondered if one of them held Elaine's tax lawyer. I thought about him and tried to guess how he might have reacted when the number she gave him turned out to be a fake.