In Death 16 - Portrait in Death

worked for him?"
     
     
"Two weeks." Dingo looked cautiously at the door of the room where Hastings waited. Then leaning closer to Eve, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "Mostly his assistants don't last long. I heard the one before me was in and out in three hours. That's kind of a record. The longest was six weeks."
     
     
"And why is this?"
     
     
"He freaks, man. Complete meltdown. Nuclear. You screw up, you don't screw up, whatever, if something doesn't fly right for him, he's orbital."
     
     
"Violent?"
     
     
"He breaks shit, throws shit. I saw him beat his own head against the wall last week."
     
     
"Seen him beat anybody else's?"
     
     
"Not so far, but I heard he threatened to throw this guy in front of a maxibus during a field shoot. I don't think he actually did it, or anything."
     
     
"Have you seen this girl around here? In person, in portraits?"
     
     
Dingo took the print. "No. Not my type."
     
     
"Oh?"
     
     
"She doesn't look like she'd party."
     
     
"Would you say she's Hastings's type?"
     
     
"For party-time?"
     
     
"For any time."
     
     
"Not for partying. Don't think the dude parties much. But he'd go for the face."
     
     
"You own a vehicle, Dingo?"
     
     
He glanced up at her again. "I got an airboard."
     
     
"A vehicle, with doors?"
     
     
"Nah." He actually grinned at the idea of it. "But I can drive. That's one of the reasons I got the job, because I can drive Hastings to consignments and shit." He paused a minute, frowned down at the print. "He didn't really throw somebody in front of a maxi, did he?"
     
     
"Not that I know of. What were you doing night before last?"
     
     
"Just hanging, I guess."
     
     
"And where would this hanging have taken place?"
     
     
"Um... I dunno. I was just.." The light dawned, turning his eyes into wide, glassy saucers in a face gone dead pale. "Oh man, oh Jesus, I'm like a suspect?"
     
     
"Why don't you tell me where you were, what you were doing, who you were with?"
     
     
"I-I-I, jeez! Loose and Brick and Jazz and me, we hung at Brick's place for a while, then we cruised The Spot, this club we go to mostly, and Loose, he got pretty messed up, so we dumped him home about, jeez, about one, maybe? Then we hung a little more, and I went home and crashed."
     
     
"Do these hanging buddies have actual names?"
     
     
"Oh, oh, yeah."
     
     
"Give them to the officer, along with your address. Then you're free to go."
     
     
"I can go? Just go?" His face underwent rapid changes, from shock to suspicion, from relief to disappointment. "I don't have to, like, get a lawyer or something?"
     
     
"Just stay available, Dingo."
     
     
***
     
     
She had to pick her way through the same minefield of nerves with Liza Blue, who turned out to be hair and enhancement consultant. When her teeth started chattering. Eve heaved a long, long breath.
     
     
"Look, Liza, do you have anything to feel guilty about?"
     
     
"Well, I cheated on my boyfriend last week."
     
     
"I'm not going to arrest you for that. How long have you worked for Hastings?"
     
     
"Um, I freelance, you know. I work for lots of photographers, and do hair and enhancements for weddings and special occasions, like that. He likes my work, so I've been doing shoots for about a year." She looked plaintively at Eve. "Is that right?"
     
     
"Who supplies the enhancements?"
     
     
"I have my own kit, but Hastings keeps a supply. He's real fussy. Lots of them are."
     
     
"Does he have any Barrymore products?"
     
     
"Sure. That's good stuff."
     
     
"Have you ever worked on this girl?" Eve asked, handing over the print of Rachel Howard.
     
     
Liza pursed her lips. "I don't think so. I'd use a good strong pink lip dye. If I used Barrymore, like you were asking about, I'd maybe use First Blush or Spring Rose. Bring out the shape of her mouth. She's got a nice one, but it could pop a little more. And she ought to bring out her eyes some. She looks kind of familiar though. I don't know where-"
     
     
She broke off, and dropped the print as if it had burst into flames. "That's the one who's dead. I saw on the news. That's the girl they found downtown in a recycle bin."
     
     
"Where were you night before last?"
     
     
"With my boyfriend." Her voice quivered. "With Ivan. I felt real bad about cheating on him. I don't know why I did. I almost told him last night, but I clucked. We went to a vid, then back to his place."
     
     
"Peabody, get her data. You can go on home,