Milo whistled softly. I felt an involuntary tug
below the waist.
“Quite a gal, eh?” asked .Jan Rambo. “A lot of
skin passes through these portals, gentlemen. She
stood out from the rest of them. I started calling
her Daisy Mae because there was a naive quality to
her. Limited life experience. Despite that, she was
100 Jonathan lllerma
a little girl who knew her way around, know what I
mean ?”
“When were these taken?” asked Milo.
“First day she got here-what’s it say, a week
ago? I took one look at her and called the cameraman. We shot and developed ’em the same day. I saw her as a good investment, started her off’ on
messenger service.”
“Doing what, exactly?” he pushed.
“Doing messenger work, exactly. We’ve got a few
basic skits—doctor and nurse, .professor and coed,
Adam and Eve, dominatrix and slave or vice versa.
The old cliches, but your average yahoo can’t break
out of cliches even when it’s fantasy time. The
client picks the Skit, we send out couples, and they
do it like a messagemyou know, Happy Birthday,
Joe Smith, this is from the boys in the Tuesday
night poker group and, presto, the show is on. It’s
all legal–they joke around, but nothing that challenges
the penal code.”
“How much does that run the poker buddies?”
“Two hundred. Sixty goes to the messengers, split fifty-fifty. Plus tips.”
I did some quick mental arithmetic. Working half-time
Nona could have pulled in a hundreddollars a
day or more. Big bucks for a country girl barely out
of her teens.
“What if the client is willing to pay more to see
more?” I asked.
She looked sharply at me. “I was wondering if
you talked. Like I said before, the messengers are
free to do what they want on their own time. Once
the skit is over, it’s their own time. You like jazz?”
“Good jazz,” I answered.
“Me, too. Like Miles and Coltrane and Bird. Know
what makes them great? They know how to
vise, Far be it from me to discourage improvisation.”
She took out another Sherman and lit it from the
one smoldering in her mouth.
“That’s all she did, huh?” asked Milo. “Skits.”
“She could’ve done. more–I had plans for her,
Movies, magazine layouts.”. The meaty face c reused
into a smile. “She was cooperative–took off her
clothes without batting an eye. They must raise
’em wild in the country.” She rolled the cigarette
between stubby fingers. “Yeah, I had plans but she
split on me, Worked a week and–” She snapped
her fingers–“pooL”
“Any word where she was going?”
“Not a hint. And I didn’t ask. This is no surro.
gate family. It’s a business. I don’t play mommy
and I don’t want to be treated like one. Skin comes
and skin goes–this city’s full of perfect bodies who
think their buns are gonna make ’em rich. Some
learn faster than others. High volume, high turnover.
Still,;’ she admitted, “that redhead had something.”
“Anyone else who’d know anything about he?”
“Can’t think of anyone. She kept to herself.”
“What about the guys she messengered with?”
“Guy. Singular. She was only here a week. I
don’t remember his name offhand, and I’m not gonna
comb through the files to find it. You guys have
just been handed a big freebie.” She pointed to the
file. “You can even keep it, okay?”
“Tax your memory,” pressed Milo. “It’s not like
it’s a big deal–how many studs do you have in
your stable?”
“You’d be surprised,” she said, stroking the marble
desktop. “Meeting adjourned.”
102 Jonathan Kellerman
“Listen,” he persisted, “you’ve been minimally
helpful but it doesn’t make you Suzy Citizen. It’s
hot outside, you’ve got great air conditioning in
here, a fantastic view. Why sweat it at the station,
waiting who knows how long for your lawyer to
show up?” He held out his hands, palms up, and
gave her a boyish grin. “Want to try again?”
The muddy eyes narrowed and her face turned
nastily porcine. She pressed a button and Leon
materialized.
“Who was the guy teamed up with that redhead,
Swope?”
“Doug,” he said without hesitation.
“Last name,” she snapped.
“Carmichael. Douglas Carmichael.”