'Door-to-door delivery service,' he said.
I got out and stood on the curb. He waited for a couple of cabs to pass, then made his U-turn. I watched until the Cadillac was out of sight.
Thoughts struggled in my brain like exhausted swimmers. I was far too tired to think. I went up to bed.
Chapter 12
'I didn't know her all that well. I met her a year or so ago at the beauty parlor and we had a cup of coffee together, and reading between the lines of her conversation I figured out she wasn't the Avon lady.
We exchanged numbers and we would talk now and then over the phone, but we never got close. Then whenever it was, a couple weeks ago, she called and wanted to get together. I was surprised. We'd been out of touch for months.'
We were in Elaine Mardell's apartment on Fifty-first between First and Second. White shag carpet on the floor, bold abstract oils on the walls, something inoffensive on the stereo. I had a cup of coffee. Elaine was drinking a diet soda.
'What did she want?'
'She told me she was leaving her pimp. She wanted to make the break without getting hurt. Which is where you came in, remember?'
I nodded. 'Why'd she come to you?'
'I don't know. I had the feeling she didn't have too many friends. It wasn't the sort of thing she could talk over with one of Chance's other girls, and she probably wouldn't have wanted to discuss it with someone who was out of the life altogether. And she was young, you know, compared to me. She may have seen me as a sort of wise old aunt.'
'That's you, all right.'
'Isn't it just? What was she, about twenty-five?'
'She said twenty-three. I think it said twenty-four in the papers.'
'Jesus, that's young.'
'I know.'
'More coffee, Matt?'
'I'm fine.'
'You know why I think she picked me to have that little conversation with? I think it's because I don't have a pimp.' She settled herself in her seat, uncrossed and recrossed her legs. I remembered other times in this apartment, one of us on the couch, the other on the Eames chair, the same sort of unobtrusive music softening the room's hard edges.
I said, 'You never had one, did you?'
'No.'
'Do most girls?'
'The ones she knew did. I think you pretty much have to on the street. Somebody's got to defend your right to a particular corner and bail you out when you get arrested. When you work out of an apartment like this, well, that's different. But even so, most of the hookers I know have boyfriends.'
'Is that the same thing as a pimp?'
'Oh, no. A boyfriend isn't running a batch of girls. He just happens to be your boyfriend. And you don't turn your money over to him. But you buy him a lot of things, just because you want to, and you help out with cash when he hits a rough spot in life, or if there's some business opportunity he wants to take advantage of, or because he needs a little loan and, gee, it's not like you were giving him the money.
That's what a boyfriend is.'
'Sort of a one-woman pimp.'
'Sort of, except every girl swears her boyfriend's different, her relationship's different, and what never changes is who earns the money and who spends it.'
'And you never had a pimp, did you? Or a boyfriend?'
'Never. I had my palm read once and the woman who did it was impressed. 'You have a double head
line, dear,' she told me. 'Your head rules your heart.' ' She came over, showed me her hand. 'It's this line right here. See?'
'Looks good to me.'
'Damn straight.' She went back for her glass of soda, then came and sat on the couch beside me. She said, 'When I learned what happened to Kim, the first thing I did was call you. But you weren't in.'
'I never got the message.'
'I didn't leave one. I hung up and called a travel agent I know. A couple hours later I was on a plane for Barbados.'
'Were you afraid you were on somebody's list?'
'Hardly that. I just figured Chance killed her. I didn't think he'd start knocking off all her friends and relations. No, I just knew it was time for a break. A week at a beachfront hotel. A little sun in the afternoon, a little roulette
