Moot by Corey Redekop Read Free Book Online

Moot

 
    “You’re moot.”
    #
    She was worth a
stare, and knew it. Late twenties. A face of superbly crafted beauty. Five feet
nine inches of unblemished curvature sheathed within a dress formulated to be
gawked at.
    Not what I was used to
seeing at nine in the morning. Or any time. My clientele tended toward the
shabby.
    She’d walked in as I was
polishing my eye. Dumb luck I hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on. The dim
from the morning sun barely cut the smog, let alone the window that hadn’t
known clean since the Allies won. I popped it in before she could notice.
    “Miss Carmen Lopez. Miss Lopez, if you’d be so kind, Mr. Pasco.” Her lips smiled. The rest of
her didn’t bother. No one ever truly smiled in my office.
    “I might be so kind.” I
propped my feet up, showing off socks that had been new when Roosevelt took
office. The first time. “I aim to please, MissLopez. Says so on my
business card. But if you’re here for personality, I have a different office
for that. And I’m disinclined to put on airs without a look at your bankbook.”
I leant back, slid a cigarette into my mouth, and flicked a matchstick with my
thumbnail. If I’d been wearing my fedora I’d have tilted it over my eyes.
    Ever since Bogart’s Maltese schtick , people expected a show for their buck,
and I was happy to play the part if it meant a client. But where I once
followed up dry witticisms with professionalism I now intentionally prodded.
Helped maintain a distance. If you were at my door, you’d likely as not be put
off by a little brusqueness anyway.
    Her fingers whitened
around her handbag. She wasn’t used to lip. “Mr. Pasco—”
    “Dudley, please.” I took a
long drag, imagining the rush that once upon a time calmed my nerves.
    “—I am looking for
someone, and you come ... recommended.”
    “By whom?”
    “Does that matter?”
    “I suppose not.” I puffed
out a few half-hearted rings. “But I offer a discount for referrals.”
    “Money is no object, Mr.
Pasco.”
    “Never is, until it is.”
    She withdrew an envelope
from the purse and laid it on my desk. I ignored it. “Why don’t you tell me why
you’re here? I hate letting money get in the way of friendship.”
    I motioned to the chair
nearer my desk. She looked at me, uncertain.
    “Please sit. I rent it by
the hour.”
    She cleared her throat. “I
think I’d rather stand over here. If it’s all the same.”
    The door must have looked
inviting, she kept inching toward it.
    “Something on your mind, Carmen ?”
    She took a breath and
said, “You’re moot, Mr. Pasco .”
    I sighed, camouflage
blown. “Well done, most don’t notice. What was the tell?”
    “You haven’t blinked since
I came in.”
    “That’d do it.” I slipped
my sunglasses on. “Better?”
    “By degrees. Also, your
eyes are different colours.”
    I sat up at that, rattled.
“What?”
    “Your left eye is brown.
The other is green. Were they like that before?”
    I clawed a mirror from my
desk drawer and peered in, not seeing what she saw. I’d lived in tones of grey
for months. Forgetting myself, I scooped the right out, scowling.
    “Are you sure?” I asked.
    “Quite.”
    “I’ll kill him.” I shoved
the marble back in. “He swore they were twins.”
    “It’s hardly noticeable.”
    “Not the point. In my
line, appearance is important.” I spat the cigarette to the floor and ground it
beneath my toes, forgetting that my shoes were in the closet. I heard the flesh
crisp as embers singed through the wool of my left argyle, not feeling a thing.
    “Now that my mootness has
been uncovered, sit and spill, will you? It only looks like I have all day.”
    I gave her a moment. She
gnawed at a fingernail, caught herself, and sat, crossing her legs. In another
life that would’ve been it for me.
    “I do apologize, Mr.
Pasco. I wasn’t expecting...”
    I waved her quiet. “No one
ever gets used to it. Moots, I mean.”
    “You look...” She
struggled for