Back Eight Million Ways to Die
Chapters (45)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Epigraph
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Chapter 15
  21. Chapter 16
  22. Chapter 17
  23. Chapter 18
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. Chapter 29
  35. Chapter 30
  36. Chapter 31
  37. Chapter 32
  38. Chapter 33
  39. Chapter 34
  40. About the Author
  41. Books By Lawrence Block
  42. Enter the World of Matthew Scudder
  43. Praise
  44. Copyright
  45. 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?”