“That’s not what I meant. Why would you want me on the case? Why would you want the killer found, assuming I had any chance of finding him? It’s not to get you off the hook because you’re not on the hook. The cops haven’t got a case against you and they’re not likely to come up with one. What’s it to you if the case stays on the books as unsolved?”

His gaze was calm, steady. “Maybe I’m concerned about my reputation,” he suggested.

“How? It looks to me as though your reputation gets a boost. If the word on the street is that you killed her and got away with it, the next girl who wants to quit your string is going to have something else to think about. Even if you didn’t have anything to do with her murder, I can see where you’d be just as happy to take the credit for it.”

He flicked his index finger a couple times against his empty coffee cup. He said, “Somebody killed a woman of mine. Nobody should be able to do that and get away with it.”

“She wasn’t yours when she got killed.”

“Who knew that? You knew it and she knew it and I knew it. My other girls, did they know? Did the people in the bars and on the street know? Do they know now? Far as the world knows, one of my girls got killed and the killer’s getting away with it.”

“And that hurts your reputation?”

“I don’t see it helping it any. There’s other things. My girls are afraid. Kim got killed and the guy who did it is still out there. Suppose he repeats?”

“Kills another prostitute?”

“Kills another of mine,” he said levelly. “Scudder, that killer’s a loaded gun and I don’t know who he’s pointed at. Maybe killing Kim’s a way for somebody to get at me. Maybe another girl of mine is next on his list. I know one thing. My business is hurting already. I told my girls not to take any hotel tricks, that’s for starters, and not to take any new johns if there’s anything funny about them. That’s like telling them to leave the phone off the hook.”

The waiter drifted over with a pot of coffee and refilled our cups. I still hadn’t touched my English muffin and the melted butter was starting to congeal. I got him to take it away. Chance added milk to his coffee. I remembered sitting with Kim while she drank hers heavily diluted with cream and sugar.

I said, “Why me, Chance?”

“I told you. The cops aren’t going to kill themselves. The only way somebody’s going to give this his best shot is if he’s earning my money for it.”