“I had this rape case once that was unbelievable,” he said. His cigarette dangled from his lips and dropped ash as he spoke.

Her eyes fixed on the gun for a moment, then quickly focused down to her desktop. “I’m very busy—”

The first bullet clunked into the chamber.

“Seems like two convicts had just gotten out of the slammer and picked up this whore…” He sighted down the revolver and aimed it toward the window.

“Do you have to do that?” the secretary asked nervously.

“Do what?”

“Point that thing?”

He laughed, lowered the gun, and plunked two more bullets into the barrel. “Hey, you’re safe. I’m an A-one shot. Only pick off what I’m aiming at and I’m not aiming at you.”

The woman didn’t appear consoled.

“Where was I?” He puffed out a cloud of smoke from his cigarette, finished reloading, and snapped the chamber shut. “Oh, yeah…these two hardtimers bought this bimbo and brought her to a hotel room—not too far from here actually, around Fifth and Main. Anyway, they took turns doing a number on her with a coat hanger and a bar of soap—”

“Officer, I’m really not interested—”

“Then, one of them gets the bright idea of calling up a bunch of their buddies for a little party. Ten minutes later, about fifteen of them show up—”

“Officer—”

“And do their thing ’til the poor hooker passes out. When she comes to, she’s got six guys going at her in every conceivable orifice. Blood’s spurting like a geyser—”

“Please!”

“Know what happened?” He smiled. “They pierced through the vagina into the abdominal wall—”

“Let me try and get hold of Mr. Arlington again.”

“That’s a terrific idea, Ms. Scott,” he said, smiling. He stared at the beautiful face, now coated with a sickly green pallor. He almost felt sorry for her.

Five minutes later Arlington stomped in. Decker remembered him from the film bust as being a small man cowering in the corner, hiding from the spray of human remains. But on his own turf he seemed larger, augmented by power and anger. His black eyes spat fire, his mouth quivered with fury, lips almost white from tension. The only thing that softened him was his nose—veiny, bulbous, a product of too much ninety proof.

“You’re in big trouble, Detective,” he bellowed. “I’m going to call up your superior right now and—”

“I’m not here in an official capacity, Mr. Arlington. Why don’t we have a little chat in your suite?”

“Get out of here!”

“Mr. Arlington, there are things I’d like to say to you, and I don’t want to say them in front of your secretary.”

“Call Security, Monique,” Arlington ordered.

Decker ripped the phone away from her hands.