course up in Monroe. Not a golfer, huh?”
I shook my head. “Not a golfer and not a physician, I’m afraid. The ‘doctor’ is an academic degree, in physics, and retired at that.”
Tina plopped forward with a thud. “Ah, clever,” she bellowed. Her voice had the volume I wished for in my Revere High classroom visits. “Did you think I wouldn’t agree to see an untitled client, or a mere scientist?”
I shrugged, a bit embarrassed, and looked past her at the ninth-floor view of West Fifty-seventh Street. More office buildings, moreChristmas garlands, and a Lladro store that Rose had spent a good deal of time and money in over the years.
“Maybe you wouldn’t have agreed to see me so quickly,” I said. “I’m sorry—”
She held up her right hand, decorated with four rings, all of them silver with various ornamentation. Only her index finger was bare. I felt my fingers itch at the density of metal Tina carried around. It had taken me long enough to decide to wear one ring, a thin, plain platinum band.
“Don’t apologize for a little pretense,” Tina said. “Deceit is the core of my business. And I have nothing against scientists. I started out as a chemistry major, believe it or not, downtown at NYU, but then Martin Luther King was shot, and then Bobby Kennedy, so I switched to sociology, you know, the better to help humanity. Imagine my surprise when no one was hiring people to save the world.”
“I always assumed a physicist would save the world.”
“Yeah, well, you may be right. Now I try to bring equity to the universe at large by catching one little cheater at a time.”
I thought of nobler causes, but who was I to judge? Besides, I guessed flattery would get me more cooperation.
“I’ll bet it wasn’t easy for you, either, in a man’s field, especially a few years ago.”
Oops.
Another false start in my so-called interview. Maybe being technically on vacation had slowed down my brain. “Not that you’re old . . .”
Tina’s laugh was loud and hoarse. “I’m not in denial about my age. Kind of proud of what I’ve done, in fact. It took a while to build this business up. People tend to think women can’t do this job. You have to be sneaky, and nosy, and persistent. You have to be willing to take risks to learn other people’s secrets.” She picked a pencil from a generic black holder on her desk. She managed to doodle and keep eye contact with me at the same time. “I say, who better than a woman?”
Another show-stopper. It was clear who was in charge of this interview.
“Who indeed?” I asked.
“So what does a physicist want with a PI firm?” Tina asked. She nodded toward my only ring. “Looks new. Trouble already?”
I had a fleeting idea of claiming that I needed her services to track down my lowlife husband, who’d betrayed me after only a few months, but in the back of my mind I heard a voice:
Don’t con a conner,
or something like that. I opted for the truth.
“I was a friend of Amber Keenan’s,” I said, “and I work with the police.”
Well, mostly the truth. I was fewer than six degrees of separation from Amber, and I did work with a police department only a ninety-minute plane ride away.
Tina cocked her head, her countenance turning sad. “I heard about Amber on this morning’s news. Awful. She freelanced for me now and then. I didn’t know her very well.”
So far, apparently, no one did.
Tina continued, maintaining a mournful look. “I didn’t know you were her friend. I’m so sorry.”
Here I was, claiming friendship with Amber, a woman I’d seen only once, in the throes of death.
“I wonder if you’d be willing to tell me what Amber was working on recently,” I said.
Tina put the pencil down and folded her hands, a pose that signaled the delivery of bad news. “I’m sure you’re aware that I can’t release that information.”
I nodded, creating an expression of sympathy with the rules of confidentiality, combined with
I shook my head. “Not a golfer and not a physician, I’m afraid. The ‘doctor’ is an academic degree, in physics, and retired at that.”
Tina plopped forward with a thud. “Ah, clever,” she bellowed. Her voice had the volume I wished for in my Revere High classroom visits. “Did you think I wouldn’t agree to see an untitled client, or a mere scientist?”
I shrugged, a bit embarrassed, and looked past her at the ninth-floor view of West Fifty-seventh Street. More office buildings, moreChristmas garlands, and a Lladro store that Rose had spent a good deal of time and money in over the years.
“Maybe you wouldn’t have agreed to see me so quickly,” I said. “I’m sorry—”
She held up her right hand, decorated with four rings, all of them silver with various ornamentation. Only her index finger was bare. I felt my fingers itch at the density of metal Tina carried around. It had taken me long enough to decide to wear one ring, a thin, plain platinum band.
“Don’t apologize for a little pretense,” Tina said. “Deceit is the core of my business. And I have nothing against scientists. I started out as a chemistry major, believe it or not, downtown at NYU, but then Martin Luther King was shot, and then Bobby Kennedy, so I switched to sociology, you know, the better to help humanity. Imagine my surprise when no one was hiring people to save the world.”
“I always assumed a physicist would save the world.”
“Yeah, well, you may be right. Now I try to bring equity to the universe at large by catching one little cheater at a time.”
I thought of nobler causes, but who was I to judge? Besides, I guessed flattery would get me more cooperation.
“I’ll bet it wasn’t easy for you, either, in a man’s field, especially a few years ago.”
Oops.
Another false start in my so-called interview. Maybe being technically on vacation had slowed down my brain. “Not that you’re old . . .”
Tina’s laugh was loud and hoarse. “I’m not in denial about my age. Kind of proud of what I’ve done, in fact. It took a while to build this business up. People tend to think women can’t do this job. You have to be sneaky, and nosy, and persistent. You have to be willing to take risks to learn other people’s secrets.” She picked a pencil from a generic black holder on her desk. She managed to doodle and keep eye contact with me at the same time. “I say, who better than a woman?”
Another show-stopper. It was clear who was in charge of this interview.
“Who indeed?” I asked.
“So what does a physicist want with a PI firm?” Tina asked. She nodded toward my only ring. “Looks new. Trouble already?”
I had a fleeting idea of claiming that I needed her services to track down my lowlife husband, who’d betrayed me after only a few months, but in the back of my mind I heard a voice:
Don’t con a conner,
or something like that. I opted for the truth.
“I was a friend of Amber Keenan’s,” I said, “and I work with the police.”
Well, mostly the truth. I was fewer than six degrees of separation from Amber, and I did work with a police department only a ninety-minute plane ride away.
Tina cocked her head, her countenance turning sad. “I heard about Amber on this morning’s news. Awful. She freelanced for me now and then. I didn’t know her very well.”
So far, apparently, no one did.
Tina continued, maintaining a mournful look. “I didn’t know you were her friend. I’m so sorry.”
Here I was, claiming friendship with Amber, a woman I’d seen only once, in the throes of death.
“I wonder if you’d be willing to tell me what Amber was working on recently,” I said.
Tina put the pencil down and folded her hands, a pose that signaled the delivery of bad news. “I’m sure you’re aware that I can’t release that information.”
I nodded, creating an expression of sympathy with the rules of confidentiality, combined with
Similar Books
