Catch a Falling Knife

sofa where I sat. The three people in the picture were Mr. Hoffman, a woman who must be his wife and a girl, perhaps teenage. “I take it you have a daughter,” I said.
    “Yes, a wonderful girl. She is the pride of my life.”
    “What would you do if a boy came to date your daughter and he had been to a strip club?”
    Tess, sitting beside me on the sofa, made a sudden movement. I glanced at her and saw that she was desperately trying to keep from what—laughing?
    Mr. Hoffman’s expression darkened as he scowled. He said, “If a young man came here to see my daughter and told me he had been to a strip club he had better run fast in a zigzag manner.”
    “I have a question for you about your patrol Monday night,” I said, quickly. “When you were at Club Cavalier did you happen to see a young lady dressed in a jacket with a hood and wearing a mask come out the back door and get in a car?”
    Mr. Hoffman looked at me in a funny way so I continued, “You’re trying to save the patrons. Our organization is trying to save the dancers. This particular dancer always wears a mask and we’re not sure who she is.”
    “Oh. No, I can’t say I did. What time would that have been?”
    “Around 8:15. And again at about 10:15.”
    “We didn’t arrive there until almost 8:30. And later we were covering other clubs. They are usually the most crowded between 8:30 and 10:30 on weekdays.”
    “Well, you might have recorded the license plate of the car, anyway. You said you find out who owns the cars. She could be a student. Did any of the cars belong to students at Crescent Heights, do you know, possibly a female student?”
    “None belonged to female students. I believe a couple of the owners had dormitory addresses. Of course, it’s possible that other cars might belong to students living in apartments or to their parents. But I’d be glad to give you the information on the ones I’m sure of.”
    “We would appreciate that.” Maybe she was being chauffeured by a male student. Take what you can get.
“Would you like some coffee now?”
    I accepted, eagerly, Tess with less enthusiasm. I felt I had earned some coffee, although I almost regretted accepting when I saw what a struggle Mr. Hoffman had getting up from his chair.
    While he was in the kitchen I picked up the framed picture from the end table and looked at it more closely. I sucked in my breath sharply and Tess said, “Lillian, what’s the matter?”
    “This girl—Mr. Hoffman’s daughter,” I said, trying to keep my voice down but in danger of hyperventilating at the same time. “She’s the one who accused Mark of sexual harassment.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Almost positive. She has the same dark hair. Same eyes. But she’s smiling in the picture and I haven’t seen her smile.”
    Mr. Hoffman limped back into the room and said, “Coffee will be ready in a few minutes. And I’ll get you the addresses from my computer.”
    “Your daughter is lovely,” I said, still trying to control my voice and my breathing. “How old is she?”
    “Isn’t she a beauty? She’s twenty. She attends Crescent Heights College.”
    “What’s her name?”
    “Elise.”
    “Elise Hoffman. Pretty name. Does she live at home?”
    “No, she lives in an apartment near the campus. She won a scholarship. Smart as well as beautiful. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been able to afford to send her to Crescent Heights. She would have had to go away to a state school and she’s too young to do that.”
    I tried to think of the right question. “Is she having any trouble adjusting to college life?”
    “In her first year she was always coming home on weekends. Now we rarely see her, except on vacations, even though she’s so close.” He sighed. “They grow up so fast.” He went back into the kitchen.
    “I need to get her address,” I stage-whispered to Tess.
    “Well, don’t go tearing up the place,” Tess whispered back. She knows me too well. “Why don’t you just ask him?”
    Brilliant. Mr. Hoffman soon returned with the coffee and offered us cream and sugar, which I refused and Tess accepted. I took a couple of grateful sips from a mug with “Durham Bulls” printed on the side, being careful not to burn my tongue, and said, “One of the things we’re doing is talking to young women on college campuses because some of them have been known to work as strippers to earn extra income. Although I know your daughter would never do that, perhaps we could get