“Well, do you? Know them?” I added, heading off an I-dunno at the pass.
“Yeah.” He pointed a finger at Jim Brody. “He drives an Escalade most of the time. But he’s got like three other cars. They’re so hot.”
I pointed at Sebastian Foster.
“Jaguar, like in Austin Powers. Shag-a-delic!” He laughed at himself.
Paul Kenner. Ferrari.
Bennett Walker.
“Porsche Carrera.”
I pulled Irina’s picture out and held it up next to the magazine cover. “Did you ever see this girl leave here with any of these men?”
“Yeah.” ‘
“Which one?”
He shrugged. “That one.”
I held my breath as he raised his hand, reached out, and touched the magazine cover with his finger.
“Porsche Carrera.”
Bennett Walker.
Chapter 28
I started trembling. My heart was beating so fast I should have been frightened. A witness could put Irina with Bennett Walker, leaving the club together in his Porsche.
“When?” I asked. “When did you see them leave together?”
He dropped his hand and shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a week ago.”
Not the night she disappeared, I realized. This kid hadn’t been working Saturday night. Still, his statement put them together, established that they had spent time alone together.
Unless that was what Jeff the Weasel was hiding-that Bennett Walker was the guy Irina had left with, that Bennett had bought the kid’s silence.
“And that one.”
His voice snapped me out of my speculation. “What?”
“That one,” he said again, touching the tip of his finger to the magazine page. “Escalade.”
Jim Brody.
“He gets a lot of girls,” he said. “I don’t know why. He’s really old.”
“And really rich,” I said.
Jeff the Weasel came jogging back from the valet lot, looking suspicious.
“So, Jeff,” I said. “Your friend here says he saw that girl leave with Jim Brody.”
“No, he didn’t,” Jeff said. “He wasn’t even working Saturday night.”
“Not Saturday night,” the tall one said. “Last week. Remember? You were here.”
Jeff stared at his pal, wide-eyed. “You are so fucking stupid! Shut up! You’re not supposed to talk about the customers!”
“Guess what, Jeff?” I said flatly. “If one of these guys was the last person to see that girl alive, we’re not talking about a customer. We’re talking about a killer. And you’re not part of the Wink-Wink-Boys-Will-Be-Boys Club. You’re aiding and abetting in a felony murder. You don’t get sent to juvie hall for that. You ask your mother to pack you clean underwear and a big tube of K-Y Jelly, because you’re going away to live with the big dogs.”
I pulled my phone out of my bag and called Landry while I stood there. I wasn’t sure whether he would pick up or not. To his credit, he did.
“There are two valets working the parking lot at Players tonight,” I said without preamble. “You need to speak with them as soon as possible. They have information.”
I hung up. The boys stood side by side, Mutt and Jeff-literally-mouths hanging open.
“You’ll be meeting Detective Landry from the sheriff’s office shortly,” I informed them. “Please give him my regards.”
I left them standing there panicking and walked down to my car. When I pushed the button on the remote to unlock the doors, the lights flashed and the car made a little wolf-whistle sound- and someone jumped off the hood and spun around to face me.
I don’t know which of us was more startled: me, or the peculiar little character caught with her hand in the Burger King bag I had left on the hood.
We stared at each other. She was in the same strange getup as the last time-the black unitard that covered everything but her face, the conical hat with the pom-pom, the platform shoes. Only her makeup had changed. Tonight her face was painted a dark color-blue or purple, I thought, though I couldn’t really tell in le poor light of the parking lot. The area around her left eye was outlined in silver. She had painted a trail of curving lines from the right corner of her mouth up diagonally across her cheek to the corner of her right eye.
“You’re naughty!” she declared.
“I’m naughty? That’s my dinner you’re eating.”
She wadded up the fast-food bag and put it behind her back.
“No, I’m not.”
“Do you have a name?” I asked.
“My name is No Name,” she said. “You can’t put that on my permanent record.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. What should I call you?”
Her eyes darted to the left, as if she were listening to the counsel of an invisible friend. “You may call me Princess Cindy Lullabell.”
“Cindy,” I said. “My name is Elena.”
“I don’t care,” she said bluntly. “You’re naughty. Like the others.”
“What others?”
She shook her head from side to side, pom-pom waggling back and forth at the top of her pointy hat.
“What does it mean to be naughty, Cindy?” I asked. “If I know, I can try not to be.”
Princess Cindy Lullabell dropped the Burger King bag on the ground, turned her back to me, wrapped her arms around herself like a lover would wrap his arms around her, and started wiggling. She paused once to look over her shoulder at me and blow me a kiss.
“Are you talking about people kissing?” I asked.
“They’ll put that on your permanent record, even if you have a special pass.”
“Thanks for the warning. Can I show you something, Cindy?”
She gave me a dubious look.
“It’s just a photograph,” I said.
She looked sideways at her invisible consultant. “Is it a trick?”
“No. I just want to know if you’ve seen this woman.”
I held the photograph out, hoping there was enough illumination from the sodium vapor light to allow her to see. She reached up into her pom-pom and turned on a pinpoint light. The mother of invention.
She took the photo from my hand and studied Irina and Lisbeth.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “They’re VERY naughty. They won’t be allowed to graduate, and that will go into their files.”
I took the snapshot back and pointed at Irina. “Did you see her here Saturday night?”
She thought about that, conferred with whatever voice she was hearing. When she turned back to me, she said, “When is Saturday?”
“Three days ago. There was a big party that night.”
“I don’t attend parties,” she said. “There might be drinking and naughtiness. My advisor says I have to go now. Thank you very much. Dinner was lovely. Good night.”
She curtsied, then bolted and made for the pipe gate and the Polo Club development on the other side of it.
