She gave his name and address. “We’re friends. Teddy and I were friends, too. I knew he was gay. He never said it, but I think he thought I knew. Anyway, he didn’t care. At least, he didn’t try to prove he wasn’t. He would come upstairs and ask if I wanted to go to a dance or something and if I said yes we would go. He had to make an appearance at his job and he used me for that. We could talk about movies and books and so forth. Some of the men I met at these affairs asked me for my telephone number but I said no so that he wouldn’t be, um, you know. I can’t think of the word.”

“Cuckolded. It doesn’t strictly apply. Where did he work?”

“Western Union. In the central office. He was a teletype operator.”

“What about his designing?”

“That was something he talked about. He said he was saving his money to go to a fashion school, but he wasn’t saving quickly. You saw the way his apartment is furnished.”

“What about his friends? Did you meet any of them?”

“No.”

“Did he ever say or do anything to indicate to you how he made his other contacts?”

She regarded him. “That was well put. No.”

“And all the time you knew him, he lived alone?”

“No. For the past couple of months or so, he had a roommate, companion, boyfriend, whatever you want to call him. I saw him once and heard him another time. A short, stocky fellow. Very muscular.”

“What color hair?”

“Dark brown. It was long and he had sideburns, like an actor. The time I saw him I was coming down the stairs and he was going into their apartment with the mail. He was wearing a T-shirt. The other time I rang their bell and Teddy answered and I heard this fellow and when I apologized for interrupting, Teddy said no, it was just his roommate. I didn’t ask.”

“When was the last time you went out with Leikman?”

“Before Christmas. That was the time I rang his bell to find out what time he was going to pick me up. It was an office party, December twenty-third.”

“You’re not very upset by Leikman’s death, Miss Linjak.”

She looked at him coldly. “I’m not going to show you whether I am or not. That’s clear, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “You’ve been a very big help. I must ask you not to discuss any of this with anybody, especially the newspapers. Don’t speak to them at all.”

“I’ll be hearing from you?”

“That’s right. Good night.”

Curran moved to escort her back to her room, and she said to him, “I know where I live, thank you.” Leland gave him a sign to let her go.

“Cop-hater,” Curran said when she was gone.