“Yes.”
Another pause. Shahla pressed the Mute again and said, “Sometimes you even have to drag it out of the masturbators.” And to the caller, “Have you seen them?”
“I was talking to her one day. She mentioned that she had tattoos.”
Another pause. This time Shahla waited him out, while making circles in the air with her hand, a gesture meaning, let’s get on with it. Tony stifled a laugh.
“I asked her where her tattoos were. She said she’d show me one.”
Pause. The Chameleon-Tony was certain by now that it was the Chameleon-was really milking this.
Shahla said, “And did she?”
“Did she what?”
“Show you her tattoo.”
Shahla cradled the phone on her shoulder and put out her hands, palms up, in a gesture of supplication. Tony almost laughed again.
“She told me to look out my window at ten o’clock that evening. My window faces her bedroom window. When I did, she had her drapes open. I saw her undress. When she took off her bra I saw the tattoo. It’s on her breast.”
“So what happened then?”
“I watched until she closed the drapes. Now I look out my window every evening, but her drapes are always closed. I can’t get anything done. I’m obsessed with her tattoo.”
“But you haven’t been able to see it again.”
“No. What do you think I should do?”
“Would you like to see another tattoo?”
Tony frowned. Shahla put her finger to her lips. He wanted to end the call, but something in her demeanor prevented him from disconnecting it.
Shahla broke the silence saying, “I’m a high school girl, and I’ve got a tattoo. Would you like to see it?”
Tony was almost positive that Shahla did not have a tattoo. More silence followed while he hoped that the Chameleon would hang up, as he had done before.
“Where is it?”
The Chameleon was hanging in there and not hanging up. Tony was pulled in two directions, wanting to protect Shahla on the one hand and wanting to see if she could hook him on the other.
“It’s on my butt. I would have to take down my jeans to show it to you.”
Now who was making the obscene call? Tony started to say something. Shahla put up a hand and stopped him.
The Chameleon said, “When you said before that you’d meet me, a man came instead.”
He remembered her name, or at least her Hotline name-Sally. Now he would surely hang up.
Shahla said, “I’ll come alone. I really want to see you.”
“The man drove a Porsche. What kind of car do you have?”
Shahla pressed the mute button and looked at Tony. “What should I tell him?”
“Uh…tell him you have a black Toyota Highlander.”
Shahla got back on the phone and repeated the information.
“Can you come to El Segundo tonight?”
“Yes.”
Silence. They scarcely breathed. Had she hooked him? Or would the next sound they heard be the click of a disconnect?
Shahla pressed the Mute again and said, “Should I ask him where to meet him?”
Tony shook his head and put a finger to his lips. He knew that their only chance was to say nothing. Seconds passed. A whole minute. It was the longest minute of their lives. Tony gave a couple of head-fakes. Shahla fiddled with her hair.
The caller said, “Meet me at Zook Sheeting at 11:30.” He gave an address. Then he said, “Ring the bell at the front door. I’ll know if you’re alone because there are surveillance cameras trained on the outside of the building.”
“Will you be the only one there?” Shahla asked.
“Yes.”
The caller hung up before she could say anything else. Tony and Shahla looked at each other. Then Shahla jumped up from her chair and threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking his chair over.
“We know where he works,” she cried. “We know where he works.”
“Good job,” Tony said, grimacing as her leg hit his bad knee. “We can give that information to Detective Croyden, along with the panties.”
Shahla leaned over him with her hands on his shoulders, her face close to his. She said, “He’d better not screw it up.”
CHAPTER 27
The meeting with Detective Croyden proceeded badly, as far as Tony was concerned. Croyden met Tony and Shahla in the conference room just off the waiting room of the police station. Tony reluctantly gave him the panties and told him how he had found them. In answer to Croyden’s questions, he tried to explain why Josh might be a suspect. His arguments sounded weak to himself, and he wondered whether he was accusing his roommate for no reason.
Croyden took notes with his Mont Blanc pen and said that he would investigate Josh. In answer to Tony’s sudden plea, he promised that he wouldn’t use Tony’s name unless he had to.
Next, Tony and Shahla told about the call from the Chameleon. When they got to the part where he agreed to meet Shahla at 11:30, Croyden asked Shahla how she had elicited this information. She told him about the discussion of tattoos.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to give personal information,” Croyden said.
“I did it to try to get his address,” Shahla said. “I don’t have a tattoo.”
“It worked,” Tony pointed out.
“That remains to be seen,” Croyden said. “He’s a pretty tricky guy.”
“It’s still worth a try,” Tony said. “Zook is only a couple of blocks from where I saw him before. He must live nearby. You are going to follow up, aren’t you?”
“That address is in the jurisdiction of the El Segundo Police Department,” Croyden said. “We’ll have to coordinate with them.”
There was no sense of urgency in his voice.
“You’re not going to do anything tonight?” Shahla asked.
“Don’t worry; we’ll check it out. If he is the night guard there, we’ll find him. That w ll be easy enough.”
“But not tonight,” Tony said.
“There’s no hurry. If he’s working there tonight, he’ll be working there tomorrow night. We’ll check with the management at Zook and get all the information on him.” Croyden looked at his notes. “His story doesn’t ring true. If he’s working nights as a security guard, how could he be looking out his window at the tattoos of the girl who lives next door?”
“That’s a fantasy,” Shahla said. “A real girl probably won’t even talk to him, let alone show him her tattoo. Our callers fantasize a lot.”
“You shouldn’t be talking to weirdoes like that,” Croyden said.
“It’s part of the job.”
“That’s what I mean. This whole concept of the Hotline is a bad one. Putting teenage girls on the phone with these guys who are the scum of society. I don’t like it at all.”
“Not all the callers are like that,” Shahla said hotly. “We help a lot of people.”
“If I had a daughter, I wouldn’t let her work in a place like that. If this…Chameleon calls again, I want you to
