“No, thanks. Give any cars away lately?”
“Three so far— after you're finished with him, come back and try your luck.”
“If I had some, I'd try it.”
“What's your game?”
“Cops and robbers,” said Milo.
A microdress girl brought out two beers anyway and we drank them standing against the cool block wall of the casino, waiting behind the purple car, watching the in-and-out, able to feel and hear the gambling inside. The outdoor lot seemed to stretch for miles, bleeding into black space and star-painted sky. Motor drone and headlights defined a distant road but for the most part all the movement was here.
Just as we emptied our glasses, a tall, thin, red-shirted man came out and looked from side to side, long fingers curling and straightening.
Barely thirty, with thick blond hair, he wore flint-colored bullhide boots under his pressed black slacks. Thin but knotted arms. A turquoise-and-silver bracelet circled a hairless wrist, and a gold chain seemed to constrict a long neck with a kinetic Adam's apple. Handsome features, but his skin was a ruin, so acne-scarred it made Milo's look polished. A couple of active blemishes stood out in the light, most conspicuously an angry swelling on his right temple. Small, round Band-Aid under his left ear. Deep pits ran down his neck.
Milo put his glass down and came out from behind the car. “Mr. Barnaby.”
Barnaby stiffened and his hands closed into fists. Milo's ID in his face made him step back.
Milo extended a hand and Barnaby took it with the reluctance of a man with wet palms. Milo started to draw him out of the light but Barnaby resisted. Then he saw the valet approaching and came along.
Back at the purple car, he looked at me and the glass in my hand. “What the hell is this all about? You just got me fired.”
“Mandy Wright.”
Hazel eyes stopped moving. “What do the L.A. cops have to do with that?”
Milo put a foot on the Camaro's bumper.
“Careful,” said Barnaby. “That's new.”
“So you're not too torn-up over Mandy.”
“Sure I'm torn-up. But what am I supposed to do about it after all this time? And why should I get fired over it?”
“I'll talk to Giovanne.”
“Gee, thanks. Shit. Why'd you have to come here? Why couldn't you just call me at home?”
“Why'd Giovanne boot you?”
“He didn't but he gave me the look. I know the look. They're bending over backward not to have problems and you just made me a problem.”
He touched the Band-Aid, pressed down, winced. “Damn. Just signed a lease on a place in Cathedral City.”
Milo cocked his head toward the casino entrance. “This ain't exactly Caesar's, Ted. Why'd you leave Vegas after Mandy was killed?”
“I got . . . I was bummed, didn't want to deal with people.”
“So you took off?”
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
“To Reno.”
“After that?”
“Utah.”
“Why Utah?”
“It's where I'm from.”
“Mormon?”
“Once upon a time— listen, I already told those Vegas cops everything I knew. Which is nothing. Some customer probably killed her. I never liked what she did, but I was heavily into her, so I stuck around. Now what am I supposed to tell you? And why are the L.A. cops interested?”
“Why didn't you return to Vegas, Ted?”
“Bad memories.”
“That the only reason?”
“That's enough. I was the one identified her body, man.” He shook his head and licked his lips.
“You weren't avoiding anyone?”
“Who should I avoid?”
“Mandy's killer.”
“A customer? Why would I avoid him?”
“How do you know he was a customer?”
“I don't, I'm guessing. But what else? Working girls get messed up all the time— who'm I telling? You know. Occupational risk. I warned her.”
“She'd been roughed up before?”
“A mark here and there. Nothing serious. Until.” He touched the Band-Aid again, rubbed his pitted neck.
“Any idea who roughed her up before?”
“Nah. She never gave me names— that was our arrangement.”
“What was?”
“I stayed out of her face and she gave me her spare time.” Twisted smile. “I was into her a lot more than she was into me. Ever seen a picture of her? From before, I mean.”
“Uh-huh,” said Milo.
“Gorgeous, right?”
“The two of you ever live together?”
“Never. That's what I'm trying to tell you. She wanted her own place, her own space.”
“Her own place for work.”
“Yeah,” said Barnaby, louder. Cracking his knuckles, he looked at his fingers sadly. “She was unbelievable. Part Hawaiian, part Polynesian. They're the finest-looking people in the world. At first, I was totally nuts over her, wanted her out of the life, the whole bit. I told her, babe, learn how to deal, the way you look you'll clean up on tips. She laughed, said she had to be her own boss. She loved money, was really into stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Clothes, jewelry, cars. She used to buy a new car every few months, sell it, get another one. Corvettes, Firebirds, BMWs. The last one was a used Ferrari convertible, she got it at one of those car lots outside of town where the losers dump wheels for cash. She used to tool around the Strip in it. I told her you're the first girl I know so into cars. She laughed, said I'm into big engines, Teddy. That's why I like you.”
The hands started moving again. “So look where it got her.”
A vanload of buzz-cut GIs was disgorged into the casino, laughing like schoolkids. Barnaby stood straighter and stared at the swinging glass door.
“That's all I know, okay? You had to come out here because the same fuckhead did some girl in L.A., right? Same way Mandy was done.”
Milo didn't answer.
“One of those serial killers, right?” said Barnaby. “Figures.”
“What does?”
“They always go after hookers.” Frowning. “Which is what Mandy was, even though she thought of herself as an actress.”
“She tell you she was an actress?”
“Yeah, but half-kidding.” Barnaby looked down at the pavement, bounced one sharp toe against the other.
“What do you mean?”
“Like, I pretend to be what the customer wants, Teddy. I'm an actress.”
“She ever do porn movies?”
“Not that I know.”
“No?”
“No!”
“She ever get specific about what kind of pretending?”
“No.”
“Or who she pretended for?”
“When I asked she got pissed, so I stopped asking. Like I said, she kept everything separate.”
Psychic link between call girl and professor. Milo glanced at me.
“She had her place, you had yours, Ted?”
“Right.”
“Where'd you and she get together?”
“Mostly my place.”
“Never hers?”
“Hers on Tuesdays. Her day off.” He licked his lips. “I got another girlfriend, now. She doesn't know about Mandy.” Flexing his fingers. “Only thing she's gonna know now is I signed a lease, and all of a sudden no job.”
“What line of work is your new girlfriend in?”
“Not Mandy's.” The hands were fists again. “Cashier, okay? She works at Thrifty Drug. Not even close to Mandy in the looks department but that's fine with me. She lives out in Indio, we been talking about moving in together.”
“Where'd you meet?”
“Here. What's it matter? At a party.”
“Where'd you meet Mandy?”
“On the floor at my casino. I was good so they put me on the 500-dollar table and she used to h
ang around there. She played once in a while but I knew what she was after.”
“What?”
“Snagging a high roller. She used to look for the highest pile of chips, edge her way over to the table wearing a low-cut dress, lean over, blow in the guy's ear, you know.”
“Did it work?”
“What do you think?”
“She have regulars?”
“I don't know, man. Can I go?”
“Soon, Ted,” said Milo. “So what you're telling me is in terms of your relationship she called all the shots.”
“I let her,” said Barnaby. “She was gorgeous. But I learned. Like the song. If you wanna be happy, marry an ugly girl.”
“You and Mandy ever talk marriage?”
“Right. Picket fence, two kids, and a fucking station wagon. I told you— she liked stuff.”
“Clothes and jewelry and cars.”
“Yeah.”
“And coke.”
Barnaby's hands clenched again. He looked upward. “I am not getting into that.”
“Why not?”
“You got no rights on the reservation, I'm just talking to you 'cause I cared about Mandy. I can walk anytime. It's my right.”
“True,” said Milo. “But what happens if I drive over to Cathedral City PD and tell them about your past?”
“What past?”
“Vegas cops said you and Mandy used heavily and that you were her source.”
“Bullshit.”
“They said after she died you used even more. That's why no one in Vegas wanted you back.”
The sweat on Barnaby's creviced face gave it the look of a fresh-glazed doughnut. He turned his back on us. The scars on his neck stood out like braille. “Why're you doing this to me?”
“I'm not doing anything to you, Ted. I just want to know as much as possible about Mandy.”
“And I'm telling you what I know!”
“I brought up the dope because I'm interested in Mandy's lifestyle.”
“Her lifestyle? What do you think it was? Doing johns!”
“Dope means bad guys. Bad guys hurt people.”
Barnaby didn't answer.
“Did she owe money to anyone?” said Milo.
“I never saw her bankbook.”
“Any of the guys you bought coke from pissed at her?”
“You say I bought for her.”
“Any bad guys pissed at her?”
“Not that I knew.”
“She trade sex for coke?”
“Not that I knew.”
“And you never set her up to do that?”
“I'm no pimp.”
“Just her spare-time buddy.”
“Look,” said Barnaby, “it wasn't like that. I had nothing over her, she was her own boss. She liked me 'cause I listened to her. I'm a good listener, okay? Work the casinos, you hear sad stories all day long.”
“What were Mandy's problems?”
“She didn't have any that I saw.”
“Happy girl.”
“Seemed to be.”
“And you have no idea who her regulars were?”
“No.”
“The night she was killed, did she say anything about who she was going to meet?”
Barnaby massaged his neck. “You're not getting it. She never said anything about work.”
“You told Vegas you were working that night.”
“I didn't have to tell them. Tons of people saw me. I didn't even find out about her being killed until the next day when I called her and some cop picked up the phone. They asked me to drive over to the station. Then they asked me to go to the morgue and identify her.”
“Did she work anywhere else but her apartment?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“If she picked up some player and he had a room in the casino, they probably went upstairs.”
“If?”
“Okay, when.”
“She ever work the street?”
“Yeah, right. She was a hard-up, two-bit hooker.”
“Any idea why she was killed out on the street?”
“Probably walking the john out and he freaked.”
“Did she make a habit of walking johns out?”
“How would I know? You asked me to guess, I'm guessing.”
“You never dropped in on her during working hours?”
“Yeah, right. And piss her off grandly.”
“So she laid down the rules.”
“She was the star, man.” Faint smile. “One time, when we were— she was in a good mood, she said, I know you're bugged by what I do, Teddy, but try to get past it, it's no big deal, just acting. Right, I said. And the Oscar goes to. And she laughed and said, exactly. They should give an Oscar for what I do— best supporting actress with her legs spread. I— it, that bugged me. I didn't like hearing it. But she thought it was funny, laughed like crazy.”
“When did she get sterilized?”
Barnaby's hands dropped. “What?”
“When did she get sterilized— have her tubes tied?”
“Before I knew her.”
“How long before?”
“I don't know.”
“So she told you.”
“It only came up because I got stupid, started talking about how I liked kids, one day it would be cool to have a couple. She laughed— she laughed a lot.”
He licked his lips again. “I said what's funny, babe? She said you're cute, Teddy. Go ahead, have some rug rats with some nice girl. Have an extra one for me 'cause I got fixed. I said what do you mean? And she said fixed. Operated on. I said what'd you go and do that for? She said no fuss, no mess, no pills to give me cancer. Then she laughed again, said I consider it a business expense, wish I coulda taken it off as a tax deduction. Big joke. I didn't like it but with Mandy, you went along or you got off the bus. When you went along with her, laughed with her, things were cool.”
“And when you didn't?”
“She shut you out.”
“So she got sterilized before you met her. Meaning over a year ago.”
“I met her a year and a half before she died and it was before that.”
“Did she say where she had the operation?”
Second's hesitation. “No.”
“She ever mention the name of the doctor?”
“No.”
“What, Ted?”
“She never mentioned the name.”
“She tell you something else about him?”
“No, but I saw him.”
“Where?”
“The casino.”
“When?”
“Maybe a month before.”
“Before she was killed?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Why, is he some kind of—”
Milo held a big hand up. “Tell me, Ted.”
“Okay, okay, I was working and saw her doing her thing. Slinking around in a little black halter dress, her hair up, fake diamond earrings.” He closed his eyes for a second, preserving the image, opened them, tugged at his red shirt. “I tried to catch her eye, so I could maybe get to see her later. She gave a big smile, then I saw she was smiling past me, not at me. At someone else.”
“The doctor,” said Milo.
“I didn't know he was a doctor. Later she told me he was. She walked right past my table, he was at another 500-dollar table, big pile of chips. She said hi to him and some other guy, hugs and kisses, like old friends. He collected his chips and they all walked off. Next day I told her nice of you to say hi. She said don't get touchy, I go way back with the guy. He's the doctor who fixed me. I owe him.”
The Clinic Page 30
