Love for Sale

instead of accepting her invitation, and it was so cheap it wobbled. He took a notebook out of his suit pocket and said, “I understand that you once worked at the Institute of Divine Intervention.“
    “Boy, did I ever,“ Joan said with a laugh. “That old goat who preached was always pawing me when he thought no one was looking. What a creep. But a girl’s gotta eat, doesn’t she?“
    “Why did you leave the job?“
    “For one thing, they paid peanuts. I’d been getting better money working at Myer’s Clam Tavern.“ She put her hand to her mouth as if she’d accidentally said something delightfully naughty. “Tips, I mean.”
    Sure you do, Lily thought. Robert had told her about the “working girls“ who lived on the third floor.
    “Then, when the old creep of a preacher took me up to his room and wanted—well, you know what,“ she said with another giggle, “I said to him I didn’t come free and I’d only charge him a fifty-cent-an-hour raise in my salary as long as I stayed at the place. Boy oh boy, you should have seen him! Here he is all dolled up in a fancy striped satin robe with his you-know-what poking out the front. Kinda puny, really. He turned all high and mighty, stomping around the room yelling about Whores of Babylon and eternal damnation and all that stuff.”
    She suddenly looked up at Walker with a seductive smile. A smile that would have been improved enormously by seeing a dentist once in a while, Lily thought.
    “While he was busy with his arms up in the air yelling at God through the ceiling, I just picked up a few of those little pretty ornaments on the bedside table and nipped right out. Got a whole twelve dollars when I pawned them.”
    Lily peeled her skirt off the chair and headed for the door. She waited outside until Howard joined her seconds later.
    “I think,“ he said, his face quite red, “she’s not a suspect. After all, she made twelve dollars.“
    “I don’t want to go on with this,“ Lily said. “I’ve never met a girl like that and don’t want to run into any more of them.“
    “Just one more, please,“ Howard pleaded. “I can leave you on the doorstep if the next one is like this one.“
    “Who’s going to protect you?”
    He took her arm abruptly and walked her back to the police car. “I was only offended on your behalf,“ he snapped.
    Once they were in the car, he turned to her and said, calmly, “Look, Lily, we only have two more who might still be living at the addresses in Pottinger’s book. Would you stick with me for at least one more?“
    “Is that an apology?“
    “Yes,“ he admitted.

    The third former secretary on the list lived just south of Voorburg. It was getting late. The old trees made it dark and hard to find the house on the winding street. When they located it, it was fairly respectable. They were met by a very plain young woman with her hair in braids around her head framing her wide, bland face. “Yes?“ she said as if they were trying to sell her something.
    “Are you Susanna Cooper?“
    “No. But she lives here, too. Is it she you want to see?“
    “Yes, if it’s convenient,“ Walker said politely.
    “What do you want of her?“ Lily noticed the young woman was holding a Bible in her hand with her forefinger holding the page she’d apparently been reading.
    “Just to ask a few questions,“ Walker said, showing her his badge.
    Her face went white. “What do you want of poor Susanna? Hasn’t she put up with enough already?“
    “I’d like to ask her myself,“ Walker said firmly, walking inside.
    It was a very small, tidy house, with rag rugs on the floor, a small wood fire in the grate, and pictures of Jesus on nearly every wall of the front room.
    The girl with the braids went through a door and closed it behind her. Lily and Walker sat down on padded chairs with crocheted afghans either protecting them or covering up the flaws. They could hear whispering behind the door.
    In a few minutes, the young woman with the braids came back leading a lovely girl. A valentine face, very pale, with a mass of glossy black, curly hair surrounding it. She looked like a porcelain figurine and appeared to be just as fragile.
    “I’m Susanna,“ she said. The two friends sat down on two wooden chairs across from Lily and Walker. The one with the braid hitched her chair closer to the other girl.
    Walker introduced himself and said he was there to ask her about Brother Goodheart.
    Susanna’s pale blue eyes