Chapters (45)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- Epigraph
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- About the Author
- Books By Lawrence Block
- Enter the World of Matthew Scudder
- Praise
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
“What I told you was a bunch of shit. I didn’t want to contradict what I told the others. Ruby split, she packed up and went.”
“When did this happen?”
“Sometime yesterday, I guess. Last night I had a message on my service. I was running around all yesterday, trying to get this funeral organized. I thought it went okay, didn’t you?”
“It was a nice service.”
“That’s what I thought. Anyway, there’s a message to call Ruby and a 415 area code. That’s San Francisco. I thought, huh? And I called, and she said she had decided to move on. I thought it was some kind of a joke, you know? Then I went over there and checked her apartment, and all her things were gone. Her clothes. She left the furniture. That makes three empty apartments I got, man. Big housing shortage, nobody can find a place to live, and I’m sitting on three empty apartments. Something, huh?”
“You sure it was her you spoke to?”
“Positive.”
“And she was in San Francisco?”
“Had to be. Or Berkeley or Oakland or some such place. I dialed the number, area code and all. She had to be out there to have that kind of number, didn’t she?”
“Did she say why she left?”
“Said it was time to move on. Doing her inscrutable oriental number.”
“You think she was afraid of getting killed?”
“Powhattan Motel,” he said, pointing. “That’s the place, isn’t it?”
“That’s the place.”
“And you were out here to find the body.”
“It had already been found. But I was out here before they moved it.”
“Must have been some sight.”
“It wasn’t pretty.”
“That Cookie worked alone. No pimp.”
“That’s what the police said.”
“Well, she coulda had a pimp that they didn’t know about. But I talked to some people. She worked alone, and if she ever knew Duffy Green, nobody ever heard tell of it.” He turned right at the corner. “We’ll head back to my house, okay?”
“All right.”
“I’ll make us some coffee. You liked that coffee I fixed last time, didn’t you?”
“It was good.”
“Well, I’ll fix us some more.”
His block in Greenpoint was almost as quiet by day as it had been by night. The garage door ascended at the touch of a button. He lowered it with a second touch of the button and we got out of the car and walked on into the house. “I want to work out some,” he said. “Do a little lifting. You like to work out with weights?”
“I haven’t in years.”
“Want to go through the motions?”
“I think I’ll pass.”
My name is Matt and I pass.
“Be a minute,” he said.