“Playing hard to get? Why run from stardom, Milo Sturgis? In addition to being a sexual-preference pioneer, for which you’ve never received just credit, you’re darn good at what you do. According to my sources, over the past twenty years you’ve closed proportionately more murders than any other detective. And yet no one really knows about the totality of your accomplishments because you refuse to maintain any sort of media presence. Sure, you pop up from time to time, giving pithy little quotes. But more often than not you let some boss-type get the credit for your work.”

“Aw shucks.”

“Fine, you’re the gay Jimmy Stewart but why shut me out on these baby cases? What is it? My breath?”

She leaned close, exhaled noisily. “See? Minty fresh?” I was favored with a second blast of herbal aroma. “Back me up on that, Doctor.”

Milo and I laughed.

“See,” she said, “I’m a funny girl. Reward me, Milo Sturgis.”

“It’s complicated.”

“So what isn’t?” Her hand shot out. A white-gold wedding band circled one of ten bony fingers. Her nails were short, unpolished. But for the ring, she wore no jewelry.

Milo said, “Now we shake?”

“We sure do,” said Kelly LeMasters. “Seeing as we’re going to be warm, nurturing, mutually advantageous buddies.”

A car approached from Santa Monica Boulevard. Shiny unmarked, new enough to lack plates.

Milo motioned LeMasters away from the lot entrance, turned his back to the oncoming vehicle.

“Who’s that?” she said.

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s not talk here.”

Kelly LeMasters said, “No prob. That Indian place you like?”

He glared at her. “Nowhere I like, I don’t want to be seen with you. Minty fresh notwithstanding.”

“Fine,” she said. “If it means you’re going to give me something juicy.”

“No obligations.”

“That’s what they all say.”

We headed up the block into the residential area south of the station. Milo and LeMasters walked abreast as I trailed two steps behind. A few turns later he stopped in front of a dingbat apartment building. White stucco instead of aqua but stylistically not dissimilar from Melvin J. Wedd’s part-time residence.

Milo’s idea of a private joke? Nothing about him suggested mirth as he drew himself up to max height, the way he does when he’s out to intimidate.

If that was the goal, it failed with Kelly LeMasters. She took a notepad and pen out of her bag and said, “Go for it.”

Milo said, “Put that away, we’re off the record. If you guys still respect that.”

“Milo, Milo,” she said. “If nothing’s on the record, what use are you to me?”

“This may come as a shock, Kelly: Being useful to you isn’t my priority.”