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
“Here you’ve got one looking at the East River.”
“It’s not the same. We had a great time, Matt. Good sex, too. I thought I’d have my work cut out for me, you know, acting shy. But I didn’t have to act. I was shy, and then I got over my shyness.”
“You didn’t tell him—”
“Are you kidding? Of course not. I told him I work for art galleries. I restore paintings. I’m a freelance art restoration expert. He thought that was really fascinating and he had a lot of questions. It would have been easier if I’d had the sense to pick something a little more humdrum, but, see, I wanted to be fascinating.”
“Sure.”
She had her hands in her lap and she was looking at them. Her face was unlined but her years were beginning to show themselves on the back of her hands. I wondered how old she was. Thirty-six? Thirty-eight?
“Matt, he wanted to see me in the city. We weren’t telling each other it was love, nothing like that, but there was this sense that we might have something that might go somewhere, and he wanted to follow it up and see where it led. He lives in Merrick. You know where that is?”
“Sure, out on the Island. It’s not that far from where I used to live.”
“Is it nice out there?”
“Parts of it are very nice.”
“I gave him a phony number. He knows my name but the phone here is unlisted. I haven’t heard from him and I don’t expect to. I wanted a week in the sun and a nice little romance, and that’s what I had, but once in a while I think I could call him and make up something about the wrong number. I could lie my way out of that one.”
“Probably.”
“But for what? I could even lie my way into being his wife or girlfriend or something. And I could give up this apartment and drop my john book in the incinerator. But for what?” She looked at me. “I’ve got a good life. I save my money. I always saved my money.”
“And invested it,” I remembered. “Real estate, isn’t it? Apartment houses in Queens?”
“Not just Queens. I could retire now if I had to and I’d get by all right. But why would I want to retire and what do I need with a boyfriend?”
“Why did Kim Dakkinen want to retire?”
“Is that what she wanted?”
“I don’t know. Why did she want to leave Chance?”
She thought it over, shook her head. “I never asked.”
“Neither did I.”
“I’ve never been able to understand why a girl would have a pimp in the first place, so I don’t need an explanation when somebody tells me she wants to get rid of one.”
“Was she in love with anybody?”