Savorne sat on the bed and Rune flopped into the Naugahyde chair with split sides; it bled dirty-white upholstery stuffing.

“You were Shelly's boyfriend?” Rune asked.

He was nodding, squinting slightly. Tommy said, “Shelly and I broke up over a year ago. But we were good friends. I still live in California where she and I used to live. I'm just in town now for a job.”

“California,” Rune mused. “I've never been. I'd like to go sometime. Sit under palm trees and watch movie stars all day long.”

“I'm from the north. Monterey. It's about a hundred miles south of San Francisco. Hard to star-spot there. Except for Clint Eastwood.”

“That's a pretty good exception.”

Tommy was carefully pulling a sock over his large foot. Even his feet looked tanned and trim. She looked closely: Wild! He's got manicured toenails. She saw cowboy boots and several cowboy hats in the closet.

He sighed. “I can't believe it. I can't believe she's dead.” He reached lethargically under the bed then snagged a black loafer. Slipped it on. Found the other one. It drooped in his hand. “How did you know her?”

“I was making a movie about her,” Rune said.

Savorne said, “A movie?”

“A documentary.”

“She didn't mention that.”

“We just started the day she was killed. I was with her when it happened.”

Savorne scanned her face. “That how you got those scratches?”

“I was outside when the bomb went off. It's nothing serious.”

“You know, even though we weren't going out anymore we still talked a lot. I was thinking... That's something I won't be able to do anymore. Not ever again...”

“How long've you known her?”

“Five, six years. I used to...” He looked away. “Well, I used to be in her line of work. The films, I mean.”

“An actor?”

He laughed wanly. “Not really built for that.” Laughed again; his red face turned redder. “I'm talking about physique, not equipment.”

Rune smiled. He continued. “No. I was a cameraman and director. Did some editing too. I'd was in film school at UCLA for a couple of years, but that wasn't for me. I knew how to handle a camera. I didn't need to sit in classes full of these nerds. So I borrowed some money, bought an old Bolex and opened my own production company. I was going to be the next George Lucas or Spielberg. I didn't get to first base. I went under in about three months. Then this guy I knew called and told me about a job shooting an adult film. I thought, Hey, watching beautiful women and getting paid for it? Why not? I gotta admit I thought maybe I'd get a little of the action myself. Everybody in the crew thinks that but it never works out that way. But they paid me a hundred cash for two hours' work and I decided that was going to be my career.”

“How'd you meet Shelly?”