The waitress looked at Jesse.
Jesse said, “I’ll have that, too.”
He wasn’t entirely sure what a full tea was. Mrs. Teitler put the menu down and smiled at him. She looked to be about fifty. She was very well made up, but small lines showed around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. Her hair was too blond. Her skin was too tan. But what Jesse could see of her body still looked good. Her teeth were very white. Her beige suit fit her well. On her left hand she wore an enormous diamond ring. She had a small pony of what appeared to be sherry.
“And what kind of tea for you, sir?” the waitress said.
“Are you allowed to have coffee?”
“Of course, sir.”
“I’ll have some,” Jesse said.
Mrs. Teitler took a little sherry.
“So what did you wish to know about Norman Shaw?” she said.
“Whatever you can tell me,” Jesse said. “We’re just doing background.”
“He’s done something,” Mrs. Teitler said. “You wouldn’t track me down and arrange to meet me, just for background.”
“You were his third wife,” Jesse said.
“Yes.”
The waitress brought Jesse a small silver pot of coffee. She poured some in his cup.
“Why did you divorce him?”
“Maybe he divorced me,” she said.
Jesse shook his head.
“We checked,” he said. “You brought suit against him.”
“Well, aren’t you thorough.”
“And got a dandy settlement,” Jesse said.
“I earned it,” she said.
“The basis for the divorce was adultery,” Jesse said.
“Whores.”
“Only?”
“He marries the good girls,” Mrs. Teitler said, “but whores were his passion. My therapist said probably it was about ownership.”
“The more he paid for them,” Jesse said, “the more valuable they were?”
“I think he liked them young, too.”
“Younger than you?”
“Apparently.”
Jesse smiled.
“Do you know any of the whores?” he said.
She shook her head. The waitress brought small sandwiches and assorted pastries and set them out. Tea was a bigger deal than Jesse had realized. He took a cucumber sandwich. Mrs. Teitler carefully put strawberry jam on a small scone and added a dollop of clotted cream.
“I preferred not to meet them,” she said. “My attorney employed a private detective and he got affidavits from four of them that Norman had paid them for sex.”
She popped the little scone into her mouth and chewed. Jesse poured himself some more coffee.
“There were pictures, too,” Mrs. Teitler said. “Norman agreed not to contest the divorce.”
“Did you see the pictures?”
“I preferred not to,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” Jesse said. “This is, ah, indelicate but I need to ask. How was he at home, sexually?”
“Christ!” Mrs. Teitler said. “A cop who says ‘indelicate.’ In bed Norman was, oh, adequate.”
“Any dysfunction?”
“You mean like he couldn’t get it up?”
“Or odd sexual practices?”
Mrs. Teitler laughed. “Sometimes I think they’re all odd,” she said. “But no. He was not a maiden’s dream, but he was, ah, sufficient… when he was sober.”
Jesse nodded.
