“Does the name Conquistador ring a bell?”

Amanda sneered. “He’s a wimp.”

“El Cid?”

“Wimpo dos,” Amanda replied.

“What can you tell me about Myra’s man?”

The whore drew her finger across her lips.

“Think about it, honey,” Decker said. “Give me something, or maybe your man will hear things you don’t want him to hear.”

“I’m real scared,” Amanda said. But it was false bravado.

“Myra’s man is suppose to have a tattoo on the back of his hand,” Maynona volunteered. “Between his thumb and forefinger.”

Chrissie spoke up. “A heart with a ribbon on it.”

Decker nodded. A Mariel tattoo—traditionally, it meant an executioner. The guy was bad news. “Anything else?” he said.

“Swear to God, that’s all I know,” May said. “We keep away from them.”

Decker believed her eyes if not her words.

“This is all stupid,” Amanda said. “They said it was her john that cut her, not her pimp.” She bit her lip, then said, “You know something different than that?”

Decker said, “Yeah, what about this bad-assed john? Any of you know him?”

The girls didn’t answer, but exchanged knowing looks.

“Anyone of you ever service him?” Decker asked.

“Why you so interested in Myra Steele?” Chrissie asked. She scratched her cheek, still pocked with acne. “And her john?”

“Because rumor has it that this mean ole trick has been bailed out,” Decker said. “Now we’ve got a pissed-off pimp and a psycho john running the streets. Shit, ladies, I’d hate to see one of you end up like Myra.”

Maynona raised her eyebrows. Decker caught it.

“Ever service the man, May?” he asked.

She didn’t answer.

“Boy, you gals are kind of quiet tonight,” Decker said. “You know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna fill in the blanks. I’m gonna say that all three of you have serviced him, ’cause this trick likes ladies of the evening, and he’s been cruising the area for years.”

“You can think what you want,” said Amanda. Her eyes had returned to the ground.

“You ever see to his needs?” Decker asked.

She didn’t answer.

“Did he ever get freaky with you?”

She stayed silent.

“Well, if you’re going to be like that, just maybe I’ll drop the word that you gals dig servicing John Q. Psycho.”

“You don’t scare me, Mr. Hot Shit Detective,” said Amanda.

“I’m not trying to, Amanda.”

“Yes, you are, and it ain’t working,” Amanda said. “I ain’t afraid of Myra’s john. Dude’s a lame-o.”

“A lame-o?” Decker said. “You mean he’s stupid?”

“No,” Maynona said. “He limps. That’s ’cause he only got one leg.”

Amanda said, “He tries anything, I’ll bust his head open…like Myra did.”

“That so?” Decker said.

“Yeah,” Amanda said. “That’s so. Besides, Mr. Lame-o Big Dick never done nothin’ bad to me.”

“Big Dick?” Decker asked.