Manhattan Is My Beat

was two in the afternoon—it had taken her this long to track down Attorney Stein. She had to be at work at four but there was still plenty of time. Don’t panic, she told herself.
    The lawyer looked at her with a cool gaze.
Neutral
was the word that came to mind. He seemed to be the sort of man who wanted to find some weakness about you and notice it and let you know he noticed it even though he’d never mention it.
    He wore a suit that fit very closely, and monogrammed cuffs that protruded. The sausages of fingers pressed together.
    “How do you know Victor?” His voice was soft and neutral and that surprised her because she expected lawyers would ask questions with gruff voices, sneery and mean.
    Rune swallowed and realized suddenly she couldn’t be Symington’s granddaughter. Stein might have done the man’s will; he’d know all the relatives by heart. Then she remembered who his daughter, Emily, thought she was at first. She smiled and said, “I’m
a friend
.” Putting special emphasis on the word.
    He nodded. Neutrally. “From where?”
    “We used to live near each other. The East Village. I’d come and visit him sometimes.”
    “Ah. And how did you know about me?”
    “He mentioned you. He said good things about you.”
    “So, you’d
visit
him.” The lawyer looked her up and down with a whisper of lechery on his face.
    “Once a week. Sometimes twice. For an old guy he was pretty … well, energetic. So can you tell me where he is?” Rune asked.
    “No.”
    She swallowed again and was mad that this man was making her swallow and be nervous. Sometimes it was so hard to be adult. She cleared her throat and sat forward. “Why not?”
    The lawyer shrugged. “Client confidentiality. Why do you want to see him?”
    “He left in such a hurry. I wanted to talk to him is all and I didn’t get a chance to. One day he was on Tenth Street and the next he was gone.”
    “How old are you?”
    “Isn’t that some kind of crime to ask how old someone is?”
    “I’m not discriminating against you on the basis of your age. I just want to know how old you are.”
    Rune said, “Twenty. How old are you?”
    “I assume you don’t really want to
talk
to him. Do you? I assume your relationship or whatever you want to call it wasn’t based on talking. Now—”
    “Five hundred,” she blurted out. “He owed me five hundred.”
    “For one night?” Stein looked her up and down again.
    “For one
hour
,” Rune said.
    “One hour,” he responded.
    “I’m very good.”
    “Not that good,” the lawyer said. “One client of mine paid four thousand for two hours.”
    Four thousand? What’d that involve? She thought of several best-selling tapes at Washington Square Video:
Mistress Q
and
House of Pain
.
    Sick world out there.
    The lawyer’s neutral voice asked, “And if I were to give you that five hundred dollars, would you forget about Mr. Symington? Would you forget that he left in a hurry? Would you forget everything about him?”
    “No,” Rune said abruptly. The man blinked. Got a rise out of him there. She tried on her adult persona again. “But I will for two thousand.”
    Which got an even bigger rise and he actually gave her a smile. It was—naturally—neutral but it was a smile nonetheless. He said, “Fifteen hundred.”
    “Deal.” She started to extend her hand to shake but apparently this wasn’t done in matters of this sort.
    He pulled a pad toward him. “Where should I send the check?”
    “Here.” Rune held her hand forward, palm out.
    Another smile. Irritated, less neutral this time. She was supposed to be stupid and intimidated. But here she was, staring back into his eyes, looking, more or less, adult. Finally he rose. “I’ll just be a minute. Payable to cash, I assume?”
    “That’ll work.”
    He walked silently out of the office, buttoning his jacket as he left. He was gone longer than Rune thought he’d be—thinking he’d just tell his secretary to cut a check—but no, he was gone for a full five minutes.
    Which was more than enough time for Rune to lean forward and flip through Stein’s Rolodex and find Victor Symington’s card. The address had been crossed out several times and a new one written in.
    In Brooklyn. The address was in Brooklyn. She recited it several times softly out loud. Closed her eyes. She tested herself and found she’d memorized it. She flipped the Rolodex back to where it had been.
    Rune fell back into her slouch in the chair and