In the Midst of Death

'Why would anybody- never mind, don't tell me.'

'It's getting to be a very strange world, Matt.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Like nobody seems to fuck anymore. You can make a ton doing masochist tricks. They'll pay a fortune if you can fill up their fantasy for them. But I don't think it's worth it. I'd rather not have to contend with all that weirdness.'

'You're just an old-fashioned girl, Elaine.'

'That's me.Crinolines and lavender sachets and all those good things. 'Notherdrink?'

'Just a touch.'

When she brought it I said, 'MannsorManch or something like that. I'll see if that goes anywhere. I think it's a dead-end street anyway.

I'm getting more and more interested in cops.'

'Because of what I said?'

'That, and also something some other people have said. Did she have somebody on the force that sort of looked out for her?'

'You mean the way you used to for me? Sure she did, but where does that get you? It was your friend.'

'Broadfield?'

'Sure. That extortion number was pure bullshit, but I guess you knew that.'

I nodded. 'Shehave anybody else?'

'Could be, but I never heard about it.And no pimp and no boyfriends, unless you countBroadfield as a boyfriend.'

'Any other cops in her life?Giving her a hard time, anything like that?'

'Not that I heard about.'

I took a sip of Scotch. 'This is off the subject a little, Elaine, but do cops ever give you a hard time?'

'Do you mean do they or have they ever? It's happened in the past.

But then I learned a little. You have somebody regular, and the rest of the guys let you be.'

'Sure.'

'And if I get a hard time from somebody else, I mention some names or I make a phone call and everything cools down. You know what's worse? Not cops.Guys pretending to be cops.'

'Impersonating an officer? That's a criminal offense, you know.'

'Well, shit, Matt, am Igonna press charges? Like I've had cats flash badges at me, the whole number.

You take a green kid who just got to town and all she's got to see is a silver shield and she'll curl up in a corner and have kittens.

I'msupercool myself. I take a good look at the badge and it turns out to be a toy thing that a littlekid'll get to go with his cap pistol. Don't laugh, I mean it. I've had that happen.'

'And what do they want from you?Money?'

'Oh, they pretend it's a gag after I pick up on them. But it's no gag.

I've had them want money, but mostly all they want is to get fucked for free.'

'And they flash a toy badge.'

'I've seen badges you'd swear came out of crackerjack boxes.'

'Men are weird animals.'

'Oh, men and women both, honey. I'll tell you something.

Everybody's weird, fundamentally everybody is a snap. Sometimes it's a sexual thing and sometimes it's a different kind of weirdness, but one way or another everybody's nuts.You, me, the whole world.'

IT wasn't particularly difficult to discover that Leon J.Manch had been appointed assistant deputy mayor a year and a half ago. All it took was a short session in theForty-second Street library. There were a variety ofMannses andMantzes in the volume of the Times Index I consulted, but none of them seemed to have anything significant to do with the current administration.Manch was mentioned only once in the Times Indexes for the past five years. The story dealt with his appointment, and I went to the trouble of reading the article in the microfilm room. It was a brief article, andManch was one of half a dozen people treated in it; about all it did was announce that he'd been appointed and identify him as a member of the bar. I learned nothing about his age, residence, marital status, or much of anything else. It didn't say he was a toilet slave, but I already knew that.

I couldn't find him in theManhattan telephone book. Maybe he lived in another borough, or outside of the city limits altogether. Maybe he had an unlisted phone or listed it in his wife's name. I called City Hall and was told that he'd left for the day. I didn't even try for his home number.

I called her from a bar onMadison and Fifty-first called O'Brien's.

The bartender's name was Nick, and I knew him because he had worked at Armstrong's a year or so ago. We assured each other that it was a small world, bought each other a few drinks, and then I went to the phone booth in the back and dialed her number. I had to look it up in my notebook.

When she answered I said, 'It's Matthew. Can you talk?'