physical handicap, any odd mannerisms, did he have an accent? Did he mention parents, brothers, sisters? Did he like dogs?'
PJ answered. 'He was as tall as you, probably not as'-she searched for the word-'thick. Dark hair worn longish, good haircut'-her eyes crinkled'great buns.'
'So we have that in common too,' I said. Nancy looked at her desk.
'His clothes were expensive,' PJ said. 'And they fit him well. He's probably a good off-the-rack size.'
'What size?'
'What size are you?' PJ said.
'Fifty,' I said, 'fifty-two, depends.'
'He'd probably be a forty-four, maybe. He's more, ah, willowy.'
'How grand for him,' I said.
'I like husky men, myself,' PJ said.
'Phew!'
'He didn't have an accent,' Nancy said.
'You mean he talked like everyone else around here?'
'No. I mean he had no accent at all,' Nancy said. 'Like a radio announcer.
He didn't sound like he was from here. He didn't sound like he was from the
South, or from anywhere.'
Nancy was maybe a little keener than she seemed.
'Good-looking guy?' I said.
Nancy nodded very vigorously. PJ noticed it and grinned.
'He was pretty as hell,' she said. 'Straight nose, dimple in his chin, kind of pouty lips, smoothshaven, though you could see that his beard is dark.
Kind of man that wears cologne, silk shorts.'
Nancy got a little touch of pink on her cheekbones.
'Okay,' I said. 'The consensus is that his name is Rich Beaumont, or thereabouts, that he's six feet one, maybe a hundred eighty-five pounds, dark longish hair, well styled, good clothes, handsome, and particularly attractive to slender blonde women.
'What do you mean?' Nancy said.
'A wild guess,' I said. 'He speaks in an accentless way, and lives near the water.'
'Hell,' PJ said. 'We knew more than we thought we did.'
'Masterful questioning,' I said, 'brings it out. You have any thoughts at all about where Patty Giacomin might be?'
'No. Really,' Nancy said, 'I can't imagine.'
'You find the boyfriend,' PJ said, 'you'll probably find her. Patty doesn't do much without a man. Usually not that good a man.'
'Thank you,' I said. 'The kid's worried. If you hear anything, please call me.'
'Certainly,' Nancy said.
PJ grinned so that her eyes crinkled a little.
'You had lunch?' she said.
'Can't,' I said. 'I got a dog in the car.'
'An actual dog or is that an unkind euphemism?'
'An actual dog, named Pearl. Can euphemisms be unkind?'
'I don't know. There's always dinner? Or are you married?'
'Well, I have a friend.'
'Don't they all,' PJ said. 'Too bad. We'd have had fun.'
'Yeah,' I said. 'We would have in fact.'
I went out of Chez Vous, and went back to the car.
CHAPTER 7
WHEN I got to my car, Pearl was curled tightly in the driver's seat. She sprang up when I opened the door and insinuated herself between the bucket front seats into the back. When I got in she lapped the side of my face vigorously.
'I thought you were Susan's dog,' I said.
She made no response.
