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“That’s it,” I agreed.
“So far so good. I got more’n I started with, and time to time I been drawing some cash for expenses.”
“It must be nerve-racking.”
“Not too. Worst that happens, day’s a minus ’stead of a plus. You guess wrong on Lucent Technology, guy who guessed right don’t show up with a nine and start bustin’ caps at you. Lose a few dollars, is all.”
“You’re saying it beats selling product.”
“No comparison, Harrison.” He grinned, enjoying the rhyme. “Plus you’re not out on the street corner on rainy days. Big difference right there.” He called the waiter over, said he guessed he’d have another bagel. To me he said, “This David Thompson. Cops likely to find him?”
“I don’t think they’re going to make much of an effort. Sussman didn’t spell it out, but in his position I’d run a computer check of yellow sheets. I’d sort all the David Thompsons, screen for age and color, toss the ones that are currently locked up, and save the rest for some night when there’s nothing on TV.”
“You gonna give him Louise?”
“My guess is he’ll forget to ask. And what am I holding out? We know damn well they’re two different guys.”
“Ever since Monica got killed,” he said, “it don’t seem all that important finding out about David Thompson. Like is he married or not.”
“I know. What do we care?”
“But ain’t nothing changed far as Louise is concerned.”
“No,” I said, “and if he’s running a game, she ought to know about it.
And if he’s kosher she ought to know that, too, so she can relax and enjoy herself. I don’t want to give up on Thompson, but I can’t think of much we can do besides wait. Next time Louise sees him, we can take another shot at shadowing him. Or the mailbox lady could call me and give me a name.”
“I was thinking ’bout that last part. Seems like we ought to be able to hurry the process some.”
“How?”
“Say we sent him a letter, with the suite number on it and all. Soon as it gets there, she’s gonna call you.” All the Flowers Are Dying
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“If she remembers.”
“If she don’t, maybe you give her a call to remind her. Even run up there and remind her in person.”
“And?”
“And she looks at the letter, and—” He broke off, closed his eyes, put his head in his hands. “And nothing,” he said. “ ’Cause only way she gets the name is off the envelope, an’ we’d need to know it ourselves to put it down there. Good thing I ain’t in front of my computer, way my mind’s working today.”
The day trader grabbed the check, insisting he’d saved money by lin-gering in the Morning Star. I told him what he’d proposed wasn’t so bad. It showed he was thinking, if not very clearly. “And it would work fine,” I added, “if all we wanted to do was send him a letter bomb.”
“Solve our problems that way,” he said. “Until Louise goes and pulls another nicotine addict off of Craig’s List.” I went across the street. Elaine wasn’t there, but I found her gym clothes in the hamper and deduced that she’d come home to shower and change. It was the sharpest detection work I’d done in a while and I was proud of myself. I called her at the shop and the machine answered. I didn’t leave a message, and while I was trying to decide whether to try her again in ten minutes or walk over there myself, the door opened and she came in.
“I opened up,” she said, “and I looked around, and I said the hell with it. I locked up again and came home.”
“And here you are.”
“And here I am.” She caught me looking at her and said, “I look like hell, don’t I? Tell the truth.”
“In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never looked like hell. Not once.”
“Until now.”
“And not now, either.”
“You want to try telling me I’ve never looked better? I didn’t think so.”
“You look fine.”
I followed her as she walked to the mirror in the foyer and put her 164
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forefingers high on her cheeks. She pressed upward, then let go.
“Fucking gravity,” she said. “Who the hell asked for it? God damn it, I was going to be the one woman who never aged. Guess what? I’m the same as everybody else.” She turned to face me. “My God, will you listen to me? The only thing worse than the little lines around my mouth are the words coming out of it. Me me me, all the fucking time. Who cares if I show my age, and why the hell shouldn’t I, anyway? Just because I don’t act it.”
“It’s a rough day,” I said.
“I guess. I didn’t get much sleep last night. I could lie down now but I’d just be setting myself up for another
