Razzamatazz

newspaperwoman. Too many Roz Russell movies. He didn't feel like seeing Babe. 'What brings you here in the dark of night?'

'Murder,' she said, an unnatural flush to her face as if the word excited her.

'You heard?'

'Everybody's heard. Sorry I missed it.'

'Yeah, it was great fun.' He lit another Marlboro, coughed.

'I didn't mean it like that. Mind if I sit down?'

He gestured with an open palm. Babe sat in the wooden armchair across from him as Colin assessed her. There was no question about it, Babe was a stunning woman: a tall, cool redhead. She wore her hair in a French braid, and Colin found himself wondering what she'd look like with it loose.

He watched as she alternately fussed with a plastic bag and the hem of her dress, pretending to try and pull it over her knees. She reached into the bag, took out a bottle of white wine, two glasses, and a corkscrew.

'Celebrating something?' he asked.

'I thought you might like it after what went on this afternoon.'

'How'd you know I was here?'

'I saw your car.' She handed him the bottle and corkscrew.

He didn't like that much. Couldn't she open a dinky bottle of wine? She was far from helpless if what he'd observed in the last six weeks was true. His analysis of Babe Parkinson was that she was shrewd, calculating, aggressive, and on the make. For him as well as his job. Or maybe more. Maybe she wanted to be publisher. Nancy would've said he was thinking like a chauvinist pig. Oh, God.

He opened the wine, poured two glasses, and slid one across the desk.

'Should we drink to something?' she asked.

He shrugged.

'How about to Gloria Danowski?'

'Who?'

'Gloria Danowski, may she rest in peace.'

Colin was beginning to get the idea that this wasn't just a social visit. 'Do you want to tell me about it or are we going to play twenty questions?'

Babe smiled, a glint in her green eyes. 'Gloria Danowski, age thirty-one, married to Hank Danowski, mother of Patti, age six, and Danny, age four. Home, One Twenty One Randolph Avenue, East Hampton. Last seen four weeks ago when she left home for a class at Southampton College. Only she wasn't registered for any class. Found today in Mayor Gildersleeve's Olympic-sized pool.' She raised her glass, gestured toward Colin as if they might clink glasses, then took a long sip.

Colin stared, not drinking. 'East Hampton?'

She took a pack of Kents from her purse and lit one with a silver Dunhill lighter. 'East Hampton.'

'What's she doing over here?'

'I don't know. Maybe she liked our pools better.'

'It's not funny, Babe. It's not a goddamn bit funny. This was a woman, a wife and mother. Have you thought about that?'

'Oh, vicious, vicious,' she said.

'You're talking about a human being, not a statistic or a good story.'

'You mean it's not a good story?'

'That's not the point. Forget it. So how'd you find this out? Who identified her?'

'I did.'

'You did?' He was furious. Trying to calm himself, he took a sip of the wine.

'In my trusty file cabinet,' she tapped her head with a ringed finger. 'I found a story about a missing woman.'

'We didn't print it, did we?'

'Nope. Newsline. I remembered the husband was stunned, no explanation. Friends said Gloria was happy, loved hubby and kiddies, and would never ever have run away. Don't ask me how I made the connection, Maguire, because I don't know. Just dumb luck, I guess.'

Colin toyed with saying that nothing was dumb luck with her, then thought better of it. 'Go on.'

'I called Danowski in East Hampton, asked if wifey had returned, he said no, so I told him about the floater. I met him at the morgue and he identified her. Simple.'

'Simple,' Colin said, disgusted.

Babe said, 'You know, you're going to have to get a thicker skin, my friend. How'd you manage in the Windy City with that attitude?'

'I managed,' he said. 'Does Hallock know?'

'About Danowski? Yeah, I told him. Now I'm telling you. Too bad this is a weekly, you'd have a scoop.'

'Me? It's your baby, you dug it up.'

'It's yours, Maguire, I'm just the feature writer. Interviewing octogenarians who've lived here all their lives, writing pieces about local merchants who hand-dip candles and create art from shells, doing in-depth stories on the couple who turn the old church or schoolhouse into a showplace home. Babe Parkinson, girl grind.'

'If you hate it so much, why do it?'

'I don't hate it, I love it. It's much better than sitting home baking cakes for some wimp who wants to play King For A Lifetime.'

'You really think a lot of men, don't you?'

She smiled, her eyes going to half mast. 'I think a lot about them. Especially some in particular.' Her implication was clear.

Colin said, 'Did the M.E. have anything to say about Danowski?'

'He hadn't worked on her yet.' She sipped her wine. 'You're not drinking, Maguire.'

'I'm not thirsty.' He stood up. 'I'm leaving.'

'It's early.'

He walked to the door. 'If you're staying, turn out the light when you go.'

'I'm not staying.' Babe left the glasses and grabbed the bottle by the neck. She snapped off the light and followed Colin down the hall.

On the sidewalk she stood very near him while he locked the door. 'Any chance the husband did it?' he asked.

'He seemed broken up. But maybe he's a good actor. I guess they'll question him.'

'Whose jurisdiction will this be, East Hampton or ours?'

'Ours. But there'll be cooperation.' She moved closer to him, looked up into his eyes. 'Speaking of cooperation.'

'Goodnight, Babe,' he said and started walking toward his car.

'You're a shit,' she called after him.

In his car he wondered if he was a shit. From the beginning he'd made it clear he wasn't interested. No, what he'd done was nothing. No encouragement but no discouragement either. Maybe he was a shit.

Starting the car, he thought of Gloria Danowski. And then of her husband. What was he feeling tonight? Remembering, Colin thought he knew. But at least Danowski had his kids.

LOOKING BACK-25 YEARS AGO

An extended period of amnesty through June 30th has been granted to authorized gun holders, to permit them to turn them over to the police department, it was announced this week by Police Chief Charles Gildersleeve. Chief Gildersleeve urges that persons wishing to avail themselves of the amnesty period get in touch with the police department.