glasses were set out.
Nothing else aroused my interest except for the photographs on the den wall. Bailey was in one, with the white-haired boat captain from the digital photo. A black-and-white portrait hung below that, of an actress whose name I couldn't remember. She had a '60s housewife hairdo, a strand of pearls, and a plunging neckline, and her cheekbones were as strong as Bailey's.
A Fiat pulled into the drive, the top down and the hunk from the photos all smiles and sunglasses. He let himself in and went straight to the hot tub. I was right behind him, a real sticky gumshoe.
"It worked," he said to Bailey. "So far."
She flicked some water toward him with her toe. "I told you it would."
"Hey, it was my idea."
"I'll remember to tell the cops that, if they ever catch on to us."
The hunk took off his sunglasses, then the rest of his clothes. He slid into the tub and popped open the champagne. He filled the glasses and toasted. "To our future."
"Eight million," she said dreamily. " Acapulco or the Riviera ?"
"We have to stay here until the storm blows over."
"No problem. We've got a good lawyer." She laughed, a chilling sound.
"They'll find Steele's body soon. But it's a risk we had to take. We couldn't have Lee's sweetheart finding out that she was set to inherit a fortune."
Fortune? Lee couldn't inherit anything. She was an orphan. At least, that's the story she gave me. Many nights I'd held her as she cried about the not knowing, the lack of roots, the yawning gray emptiness of her childhood. I'd even been looking into it for her, tracing her lineage, but without much luck.
"Think I can manage to look bereaved at Lee's funeral?" Bailey asked, quaffing some champagne.
"You can pull off anything for a buck. And slipping that love note was a streak of pure genius. No fingerprints, right?"
"We handled it with kid gloves. Except for when I stripped in Steele's apartment."
"I hope our friend didn't touch anything," he said, his face sweating and his moussed hair going limp.
"Hey, you jealous or something? All he did was take the pictures."
"Well, let's just say that you're a natural for the role of the 'other woman.' So you planted the photographs?"
"Yep. They're in Steele's pocket, right where the police can find them. The one you took, too, behind the building." Bailey was getting less attractive by the minute, or maybe it was the presence of Mister Charm.
"Lee will be so guilt-ridden over what she's done that no one will be surprised. Jealousy does strange things to a person."
"I've noticed. Did you pay him?"
"You mean 'Raymond Chandler'?" He laughed. "Bet the cops loved that one. I dropped off his down payment right after he ditched the rifle." He shook his head, dripping sweat from his damp hair. "Damnedest thing, though. He says he shot Steele at four o'clock."
Bailey sat up. I cursed her for taking away all my enjoyment of nude women. "But it had to be at least 4:15 before Steele went back to his apartment. And ' Chandler ' met me there at 4:30."
He-man shrugged. "He's got enough money now to buy himself a decent watch. Anybody see you go to Steele's room?"
"I was practically invisible," she said.
He kissed her and she giggled. He put down his champagne glass and went for her. I left before the scene got disgusting.
***
8.
My apartment was suffocating in its stillness. The blood on the floor had congealed. My body stank. My flesh was colder than a lawyer's heart.
I checked the answering machine. No calls. If Bailey set me up to make Lee think I was having an affair, Lee would have called by now. She wasn't really the jealous type. She just liked to know which way the wind blew.
I didn't want to pay Lee a visit just yet. That would be too draining. I'd probably waste all my emotional energy tearing my heart out at the sight of her. I had too little reserve left as it was. So I just had to trust her to take care of herself for a while. I spent the night in the elevator shaft.
Do you
Nothing else aroused my interest except for the photographs on the den wall. Bailey was in one, with the white-haired boat captain from the digital photo. A black-and-white portrait hung below that, of an actress whose name I couldn't remember. She had a '60s housewife hairdo, a strand of pearls, and a plunging neckline, and her cheekbones were as strong as Bailey's.
A Fiat pulled into the drive, the top down and the hunk from the photos all smiles and sunglasses. He let himself in and went straight to the hot tub. I was right behind him, a real sticky gumshoe.
"It worked," he said to Bailey. "So far."
She flicked some water toward him with her toe. "I told you it would."
"Hey, it was my idea."
"I'll remember to tell the cops that, if they ever catch on to us."
The hunk took off his sunglasses, then the rest of his clothes. He slid into the tub and popped open the champagne. He filled the glasses and toasted. "To our future."
"Eight million," she said dreamily. " Acapulco or the Riviera ?"
"We have to stay here until the storm blows over."
"No problem. We've got a good lawyer." She laughed, a chilling sound.
"They'll find Steele's body soon. But it's a risk we had to take. We couldn't have Lee's sweetheart finding out that she was set to inherit a fortune."
Fortune? Lee couldn't inherit anything. She was an orphan. At least, that's the story she gave me. Many nights I'd held her as she cried about the not knowing, the lack of roots, the yawning gray emptiness of her childhood. I'd even been looking into it for her, tracing her lineage, but without much luck.
"Think I can manage to look bereaved at Lee's funeral?" Bailey asked, quaffing some champagne.
"You can pull off anything for a buck. And slipping that love note was a streak of pure genius. No fingerprints, right?"
"We handled it with kid gloves. Except for when I stripped in Steele's apartment."
"I hope our friend didn't touch anything," he said, his face sweating and his moussed hair going limp.
"Hey, you jealous or something? All he did was take the pictures."
"Well, let's just say that you're a natural for the role of the 'other woman.' So you planted the photographs?"
"Yep. They're in Steele's pocket, right where the police can find them. The one you took, too, behind the building." Bailey was getting less attractive by the minute, or maybe it was the presence of Mister Charm.
"Lee will be so guilt-ridden over what she's done that no one will be surprised. Jealousy does strange things to a person."
"I've noticed. Did you pay him?"
"You mean 'Raymond Chandler'?" He laughed. "Bet the cops loved that one. I dropped off his down payment right after he ditched the rifle." He shook his head, dripping sweat from his damp hair. "Damnedest thing, though. He says he shot Steele at four o'clock."
Bailey sat up. I cursed her for taking away all my enjoyment of nude women. "But it had to be at least 4:15 before Steele went back to his apartment. And ' Chandler ' met me there at 4:30."
He-man shrugged. "He's got enough money now to buy himself a decent watch. Anybody see you go to Steele's room?"
"I was practically invisible," she said.
He kissed her and she giggled. He put down his champagne glass and went for her. I left before the scene got disgusting.
***
8.
My apartment was suffocating in its stillness. The blood on the floor had congealed. My body stank. My flesh was colder than a lawyer's heart.
I checked the answering machine. No calls. If Bailey set me up to make Lee think I was having an affair, Lee would have called by now. She wasn't really the jealous type. She just liked to know which way the wind blew.
I didn't want to pay Lee a visit just yet. That would be too draining. I'd probably waste all my emotional energy tearing my heart out at the sight of her. I had too little reserve left as it was. So I just had to trust her to take care of herself for a while. I spent the night in the elevator shaft.
Do you
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