Bodily Harm by Robert Dugoni Page A

doesn’t talk to many people.”
    “When he came to my building to see me the other day I wasin a hurry and didn’t have much time to talk to him. He seemed very concerned about something.” Sloane decided to leave the specifics vague. “I just went to his apartment, but he wasn’t there.” Again, Sloane chose to leave out the details. “The building manager indicated Kyle sold some of his toys to you. I was hoping you could tell me more about him.”
    “I really adore Kyle,” Stroud said. “He’s a sweet young man with an incredible imagination, and he can design just about anything.” She shook her head, her look becoming compassionate. “But he’s also a social misfit, probably manic. He can’t hold down a regular job. I feel sorry for him. I think he’s starting to drink. The last time he was in I smelled it on his breath.”
    “Are his designs any good?” Sloane asked.
    “He’s brought me several things over the years. I usually buy them because they’re different, not what you’re going to find in the big retailers. And they sell. But he also shows me designs that are just too far beyond what I’m capable of doing.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He’s into action figures. He’s probably a genius. But he needs to have them mass-produced to make them affordable.”
    Sloane stirred a packet of sugar into his cup. “When was the last time you saw Kyle?”
    She crossed her blue jeans and thought for a moment. “He came to the store to show me a design for an action figure that he said a child could build from plastic pieces, but that would also change into different shapes on its own. He tried to explain it to me, but I told him I couldn’t afford to have it manufactured. He needed a bigger toy company with more resources to finance him.”
    Sloane opened the file and showed her one of Horgan’s drawings.
    Stroud didn’t take long to consider it. “That’s it. He was very excited about it. I told him to get himself an agent and take it toKendall. Maybe that wasn’t the best advice.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Sebastian Kendall recently had to step down with cancer, and Kendall’s profits have nose-dived. It was just in the paper.” She sat up straighter, as if struck by an idea. “Maybe Kyle wants you to represent him.”
    “Represent him?”
    “As his agent.”
    “There is such a thing?”
    “Don’t scoff. It can be lucrative.” Stroud chuckled, revealing perfect white teeth. “You wouldn’t think so, would you? I mean we’re talking about toys here, right? Then again, people spend five billion dollars a year on their pets. Well, the toy industry does about five times that amount.”
    “And these toy companies buy designs from people like Kyle?”
    Stroud explained that independent toy designers like Horgan were becoming as rare as the independent toy shops. “There’s less opportunity. The big companies buy the smaller ones, and many have their own design departments. It’s cheaper to pay them a straight salary than to pay a commission and royalties. Maybe cheaper isn’t the right word. There’s less risk.”
    “Risk of what?” Sloane popped a piece of scone into his mouth and sipped tea.
    “Having a toy bomb. Even with market research, nothing is certain. Kids are fickle; nobody really knows what is going to sell big and what’s going to tank. It’s a crapshoot. Do you remember Beanie Babies?”
    “Vaguely,” Sloane said.
    Stroud advised that the inventor of Beanie Babies, H. Ty Warner, couldn’t get a toy company to even consider the stuffed animals, then kids went crazy for them, and Warner shot into the Forbes list of the World’s Richest People.
    “But how often does that happen?” Sloane asked, skeptical.
    “Not often. But the toy industry is like the lottery. Everyone thinks, Why not me? Why not my toy? No one thought a purple dinosaur would sell, but Barney did, big time. And you probably don’t remember Cabbage Patch Kids, but they were