Lover Man: An Artie Deemer Mystery by Dallas Murphy Read Free Book Online Page A

big enough. Roger ain't been workin' all that much or I'd put down my own twenty."
    "I tell you what, Vinnie, here's forty. Put it down for both of us." What else could I do?
    His good eye sparkled, and he excused himself to go in search of a phone. I ruffled Roger's ears.
    "Yes," said Mrs. Sackley, "every time I switch on my set."
    "Right this way, Mr. Deemer." The receptionist smiled. Of course it's unfair, but what can I do about it?
    The receptionist led us into a chilly black TV studio. Three fellows wearing headphones argued intently but silently up in the control booth. I knew one of them, but he was too busy arguing to return my wave. Idle camera operators stood drinking coffee and talking about sex. Camera operators, I've noticed, talk aboutsex a lot. Then three producer types, identical in every respect, approached me with three big smiles, sincere smiles that made you want to believe them. But of course you can't. They each in turn shook my hand with equal firmness, after which they kneeled down to fuss over Jellyroll. One looked up at me and said, "Could we just get to know him for a while?"
    I said sure and ruffled Jellyroll's ears before I left him to the sharks. Sometimes I think Jellyroll sees this crazy scene as just a lot of happy humans who want to pet him, but sometimes I think he sees that at bottom there is me selling him out after giving his ears a hypocritical ruffle. Those three guys were walking him around, calling him here and there and generally acting like they'd never been near a dog. I went to talk to one of the camera operators.
    "Hi, Phyllis."
    "Artie. I heard you were coming to save the day." Phyllis was a blond woman with a weathered face, as if she'd recently returned from a sailing trip or an expedition to the Andes, and she had about her the quiet confidence of people who do that sort of thing. We sat on some coiled cables in the corner, and though people bustled around pushing mike booms and things, they paid no attention to us. "So you met Larry, Curly, and Moe," she said.
    "What's their story?"
    "Fear."
    "Do they test every dog that comes in?"
    "In film
and
video. We've been here nine to five for two weeks."
    "Well that's good for you." I liked Phyllis.
    "I'm sorry about Billie."
    "I had to identify her body."
    "You did?" She looked squarely into my face, looked with unselfconscious concern into my eyes. "You look bad, Artie. Why don't you take some of your dog's money and go to an island somewhere it doesn't rain?"
    "Will you come with me?" The idea of us scantily clad on a dry island was very appealing, but I knew she wouldn't do it.
    "I work, Artie. Some people do, you know."
    "Jellyroll would be honored to pick up the tab." She put her hand on my forearm and made it tingle, but that was just a way of saying no. "I have some negatives, Phyllis. About ten. I thought you might know somebody who could print them for me. Fast."
    "How fast?"
    "Immediately. They were Billie's." I wanted to tell her everything, lie down like a little boy with my head in her lap and tell her the whole rotten story.
    "Color?"
    "No, black and white. Thirty-fives. I'll pay a hundred dollars if I can get them this afternoon. Is that reasonable?"
    "Sure. Let me think. It'd be nice to get the money to somebody hungry." She pulled a black address book from her back pocket, where I wanted to be. For a troubled instant I thought about Palomino and his frigid wallet.
    "Phyllis, what did the
Post
say?"
    "The
Post?
Jesus, why?"
    "I don't know. I guess I'm scared to see it by accident in the subway or blowing in the gutter. I'd rather hear it from you."
    "It said in those ugly black letters: BOUND, DROWNED. The article said some unnamed source in the police department told the
Post
that one of Billie's former lovers was under suspicion."
    "Oh."
    "Billie had a lot of lovers, Artie. I guess you know that."
    "Yes."
    "I'm sorry," she said, but I couldn't answer. "I'll go make a few calls for you."
    Did the police really