Strega

going to throw up, but she got herself under control. Her head came up. She was chewing on something-a piece of my lip.

'Mmmmm,' she said, 'it's so good.' I watched her swallow a part of me. Her smile had red in it, like smeared lipstick.

I got up from the bench and walked back to the Plymouth, leaving her where she was. She didn't move until she heard the engine kick over. Then she walked to the car, taking her time.

She got in the passenger side, opened her window, and looked out-away from me. She didn't say another word until we pulled up next to her BMW.

42

METROPOLITAN Avenue was quiet. The BMW was sitting there undisturbed. It was that kind of neighborhood.

The redhead turned to me. 'Can I say one thing to you before you go?'

I just nodded, tensing my right arm in case she decided she was still hungry.

'One hundred thousand dollars. In cash. For you.'

She had my attention, but I didn't say anything.

'One hundred thousand dollars,' she said again, like she was promising me the most erotic thing in the world. Maybe she was.

'Where?' I asked her.

'I have it,' she said. 'And it's yours if you find me that picture.'

'And if I don't? I mean, if I look and come up empty?'

'How long will you look?'

'If I look, I'll look four, five weeks. After that, there's no point. You could run some ads, shake some trees…but if it's around, still local, that's all the time there is.'

'How do I know you'll really look?' she asked.

'You don't,' I said, 'and that's the fucking truth.'

'Five thousand a week?'

'Plus expenses.

'For a hundred grand, you can pay your own expenses.

'If I find the picture,' I said, 'the hundred grand covers it all, okay? But if I don't, you pay five grand a week for a max of five weeks, plus expenses.

The redhead stroked her own face, soothing herself, thinking. Finally she said, 'Ten grand up front and you start tonight.'

'Twenty-five up front and I start tonight,' I shot back.

'Fifteen,' she offered.

'Take a walk, lady,' I said. 'I shouldn't have started this in the first place.'

'You walk with me,' the redhead said. 'Back to my house. I'll give you the twenty- five.'

'And a picture of the kid?'

'Yes. And all the other stuff I put together.'

'And then you're out of it? I do my work and I let you know the result?'

'Yes.'

'And then you forget you ever saw me?'

'Oh, I'll do that,' she said, 'but you'll never forget you saw me.

Even in the car I was still cold. 'You have the money at your house? Your husband?'

'Don't worry about it. He won't be home tonight. Is it a deal?'

'No promises,' I told her. 'I'll take my best shot. I come up emptythat's all, right?'

'Yes,' she said again. 'Follow me.'

She got out of the Plymouth and into her car. I let the engine idle while she started up. She pulled out and I followed her taillights into the night.

43

THE REDHEAD drove badly, taking the BMW too high in the lower gears, backing it off through the mufflers when she came to a corner, torturing the tires. The Plymouth was built for strength, not speed-I drove at my own pace, watching to see if she attracted attention with her driving.

The BMW ducked into the entrance for Forest Park. I lost sight of her around a curve, but I could hear tires howling ahead. I just motored along-there was no place for her to go.

She turned out of the park and into a section of mini-estates-not much land around the houses, but they were all big bastards, set far back from the street, mostly colonials. The redhead took a series of tight, twisting turns and stopped at a flagstone-front house with a wrought-iron fence. She got out and walked to the entrance, never looking back. Something from her purse unlocked the gate. She waved me around her car and I pulled into the drive. I heard the gate close again behind me and then the BMW's lights blinded me as she shot past me, following the curve of the driveway around to the back of the house-it opened as we approached-it must have had some kind of electronic eye. The light came on inside the garage. Only one stall was occupied-a Mercedes sedan.

I watched her slam the BMW into the middle space. I brought my car to a stop, and reversed so the Plymouth 's rear bumper was against the opening of the garage. She motioned for me to pull all the way inside. I shook my head, turned off the engine. She shrugged the way you do at an idiot who doesn't understand the program and pointed for me to follow her inside.

The redhead pushed a button against the garage wall and the big door descended from the ceiling and closed behind us. She opened a side door and started to climb some stairs, flicking her wrist at me in a gesture to follow her.

The stairs made a gentle curve to the next floor. Soft light came from someplace but I couldn't see any bulbs. The redhead's hips switched almost from wall to wall on the narrow staircase. I thought about the magnum I'd left in the Plymouth.

She took me into a long, narrow room on the next floor. One whole wall was glass, facing the backyard. Floodlights bathed the grounds-there was a rock garden around a patio in the back; the rest faded into the shadows.

'Wait here,' she said, and moved into another room.

She hadn't turned on a light in the big room but I could see well enough. It looked as if her interior decorator had a degree in hospital administration. The whole room was white-a low leather couch in front of a slab of white marble, a recliner in the same white leather. There was a floor lamp extending over the recliner-a sharp black stalk with a fluted wing at the top. A black glass ashtray was on the marble slab. Against the far wall was a single black shelf running the full length, the lacquer gleaming in the reflected light. I saw four floor- standing black stereo speakers but no components-probably in another part of the house. The floor was black quarry tile and there were two parallel strips of track lighting on the ceiling-holding a series of tiny black-coned spots. The room was a reptile's eye-flat and hard and cold.

I sat down in the recliner and lit a cigarette. My mouth burned with the first drag. I pulled the butt away-there was blood on the filter. I wiped my mouth on my handkerchief and sat there waiting. I heard the tap of her heels on the tile, turned my head without moving. I tasted the blood on my lip again. She was