Shallow Graves - Jeremiah Healy by Jeremiah Healy Read Free Book Online Page B

the telephone.
His office was more modest than Erica Lindqvist's. The one window
gave him a view of the alley and parking area of the buildings on the
south side of Commonwealth Avenue. The "codirector's" guest
furniture consisted of uncomfortable director's chairs. His desk had
a fax, calculator, and computer also, but there were dozens of
magazines strewn over it and the floor nearby, most of them with I
guess a fifteen- to nineteen-year-old puckering for the cover.
    Into the receiver, Yulin was saying, "Yes,
Melanie, it's George. . . Well, I wouldn't have to be calling you if
you checked in like you were supposed to, now would I? . . . Yes,
well, we all have a rough night from time to time. The trick is not
to let it ruin our days. Or our looks, right? . . . Yes, I've got
something for you. Lingerie catalog, should be lots of — No, your
hair is fine the way it is. Clean-shaven . . . Yes, of course 'down
there, too.' How long have you been living off this dodge, Melanie?.
. . Probably Wednesday next week, maybe into Thursday . . .Yes, well,
how's your period been the last three . . . All right, all right. If
it isn't, call me at least twenty-four before the shoot,
got
it? . . . Yes, love you, too."
    Yulin hung up. "The fucking cunt!"
    I decided to play along. One of your favorites?"
    "You have no idea, Mr. — tell me, now that
you've heard me use foul language, can we call each other by first
names?"
    Just like Lindqvist. "Sure, George."
    "Well, John, models have egos the size of their
bottoms rather than their brains. They love the glamour and the
travel — when they work, that is, which might be only two or three
days a week. They have time off like a stewardess and get paid like a
company president. Plus all the stroking, the wining and dining,
propositioned by every Platinum Card in sight. But no matter how many
great spreads you get them, a lot of the girls are so unappreciative,
so bitchy, it drives you up a wall."
    "Was Mau Tim like that?"
    "Mau Tim? Oh, right. No, no, she was pretty
professional, actually. A good kid, if a little quiet."
    "Erica led me to believe that Mau Tim was on the
verge of stardom."
    Yulin leaned back in his chair, combing the fingers
of his right hand through the grizzly-bear hair over his ear. "Are
we going to play lawyer/witness here, or can you just ask me
questions?"
    Maybe Yulin had a little more juice than I thought.
    "Erica said something about a file and a book
you kept on Mau Tim?"
    "Sure. Just a second."
    Yulin left the office for maybe twenty seconds,
coming back carrying a yellow suspended folder and a six-inch by
nine-inch loose-leaf album. He handed me the folder and set the album
on the desk near me. Then he pulled over another director's chair so
we were sitting side by side.
    "Why don't you just go through the file, John? I
can give you a running commentary on it."
    "Fine."
    I opened the folder. There was a cover sheet with MAU
TIM (DANI) and date of birth at the top.
 
Yulin
said, "That's the casting card."
    "How come her last name is in parentheses?"
    "Because she goes by her first name
professionally. A lot of the girls do."
    "Why?"
    "They think it's sexier. Also, it keeps the
creeps from finding out who they are and where they live."
    Lindqvist had already taken me down that road. I
pointed to a smattering of telephone numbers, some of which had been
lined through and others arrowed in. "What are all these?"
    "The places we can reach her. Sony, could reach
her. Sometimes a job will crop up after a model's called in for the
day."
    "Why so many numbers?"
    "Well, some are out of date. The ones with
arrows are more recent."
    "Can you tell me which numbers went with which
times?"
    Yulin craned over my arm. "That first number was
her uncle's, I think. He's a lawyer, downtown. The second is Oz
Puriefoy's. He's the photographer who scouted her." Yulin looked
up at me. "Who sent her to us in the first place."
    " Right. But they're scratched out."
    "Al1 that means is she got