“But I would never kiss and tell. I’m the model of discretion.”

“That’s nice.”

“But you know your favorite axe man in the Doobie Brothers?”

“Discretion, Big Cyndi.”

“Right. Sorry. But I was making a point. I followed in the footsteps of Pamela des Barres, Sweet Connie—you remember, from the Grand Funk song?—Bebe Buell—and my mentor, Ma Gellan. You know who she is?”

“No.”

“Ma Gellan considered herself a rock star cartographer. Do you know what that is?”

He tried not to roll his eyes. “I know a cartographer is a mapmaker.”

“That’s right, Mr. Bolitar. Ma Gellan made up topographical and topological nude body maps of rock stars.”

“Ma Gellan,” Myron said, seeing it now. He nearly groaned. “Like Magellan?”

“You’re very quick, Mr. Bolitar.”

Everyone’s a wiseass.

“Her maps are wonderful—very detailed and precise. They show scars, piercings, abnormalities, body hair, even areas where they were colossally or inadequately equipped.”

“For real?”

“Of course. You know about Cynthia Plaster Caster? She used to make plaster casts of penises. By the way, it’s true about front men. They are always gifted. Oh, except for one from a very famous British band, I won’t say who, but he’s hung like a small kitten.”

“Is there a point here?”

“An important one, Mr. Bolitar. Ma Gellan made a topographical map of Gabriel Wire. The man was gorgeous—face and body. But he had no tattoos. Not a mark on him.”

Myron thought about that. “Evelyn Stackman’s picture was taken within weeks of his becoming a total recluse. Maybe he got it after she did her, uh, study of him.”

They arrived at the bus stop.

“That could be,” Big Cyndi said. As she rolled out, the car creaked and rolled like the opening credits of The Flintstones when Fred gets those ribs. “Would you like me to check with Ma?”

“I would. Are you sure I can’t just get you a taxi back?”

“I prefer taking the bus, Mr. Bolitar.”

And there she stalked away like a middle linebacker, still in the Batgirl costume. No one gave her a second glance. Welcome to the New York-New Jersey-Connecticut tristate area. Visitors often think that the locals are uncaring or cold or rude. The truth is, they are frighteningly polite. When you live in a congested area, you learn to give people their space, allow them their privacy. Here you can be surrounded by people and still enjoy being alone.

The Garden State Plaza Mall was two million-plus square feet of retail space located in the epicenter of retail malls, Paramus, New Jersey. The word “Paramus” comes from the Lenape Native Americans and means either “place of fertile soil” or “make room for another megastore.” Paramus boasts more retail shopping than any other zip code in the USA, and Myron’s guess was, it wasn’t even close.