He said, “The Powhattan Motel, you know where Queens Boulevard cuts the Long Island Expressway? It’s just past the intersection. I don’t know just where, Elmhurst or Rego Park. Right about where they run into each other.”

“So?”

“One of those adult motels, waterbeds in some of the rooms, X-rated movies on the teevee. They get cheaters, the hot-sheet trade, take a room for two hours. They’ll turn a room five, six times a night if they get the volume, and a lot of it’s cash, they can skim it. Very profitable, motels like that.”

“What’s the point?”

“Guy drove up, rented a room a couple of hours ago. Well, that business, you make up the room soon as the customer leaves it. Manager noticed the car was gone, went to the room. Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the door. He knocks, no answer, he knocks again, still no answer. He opens the door and guess what he finds?”

I waited.

“Cop named Lennie Garfein responded to the call, first thing that struck him was the similarity to what we had at the Galaxy Downtowner. That was him on the phone. We won’t know until we get the medical evidence, direction of thrust, nature of wounds, all that, but it sure as hell sounds identical. Killer even took a shower, took the towels with him when he left.”

“Was it—”

“Was it what?”

It wasn’t Donna. I’d just spoken to her. Fran, Ruby, Mary Lou—

“Was it one of Chance’s women?”

“Hell,” he said, “how do I know who Chance’s women are? You think all I do is keep tabs on pimps?”

“Who was it?”

“Not one of anybody’s women,” he said. He crushed out his cigarette, started to help himself to a fresh one, changed his mind and pushed it back into the pack. “Not a woman,” he said.

“Not—”

“Not who?”

“Not Calderón. Octavio Calderón, the room clerk.”

He let out a bark of laughter. “Jesus, what a mind you got,” he said. “You really want things to make sense. No, not a woman, and not your boy Calderón either. This was a transsexual hooker off the Long Island City stroll. Preoperative, from what Garfein said. Means the tits are there, the silicone implants, but she’s still got her male genitals. You hear me? Her male genitals. Jesus, what a world. Of course maybe she got the operation tonight. Maybe that was surgery there, with a machete.”

I couldn’t react. I sat there, numb. Durkin got to his feet, put a hand on my shoulder. “I got a car downstairs. I’m gonna run out there, take a look at what they got. You want to tag along?”

Chapter 28

Chapter 28