Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

wrong. The only other B I could dredge up right now was Sgt. Bert Guthrie, and I had to hope that Marguerite had a better opinion of herself than to date a troll like him, no matter how much she got around.
    Lily hadn’t remembered to mention the fact that she’d gotten Marguerite the job, either, or where she worked. It would be interesting to know just who paid the rent on the apartment. I was betting either the boyfriend or Lily might be able to clue me in on that.
    I checked with the choreographer, who had drunk his lunch and was too far gone to know anything, and the manager, who was too mad to remember much about Miss Saint-Ville except that she took off on him and left him in the lurch. He had thrown out whatever she left behind. An act of petty revenge in light of what happened to her, but of course he couldn’t know.

    62

    CATT FORD

    After the noisy room full of perfumed girls, I needed a lungful of fresh desert air when I emerged from the club. I couldn’t help thinking about how unfair life was. I mean, a straight dick would have been in heaven detecting in there, but where was the dressing room full of gorgeous naked men when you needed one? Las Vegas definitely needed more queer strip joints. Or even one.
    “Fancy meeting you here.”
    “Are you practicing to be my shadow?” I demanded.
    Artie shrugged. “I bet your shadow is having a hard time keeping up. I stopped by your office, but you’re always roaming around somewhere, never sitting still in one spot.” I stared at him. “Are you trying to be philosophical?”
    “Nope, just I heard your girl used to dance here and I thought you might want to know.”
    “Yeah, I heard that too.”
    “I shoulda known, two steps ahead, that’s you. Plus, I got a message for you. Some broad with red hair, parked out front in a car with a driver.” He nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. “Wants to see you, chop-chop. Better not keep her waiting. Those redheads got a temper, don’t they, hotshot!” He gave me a leer.
    “All right, all right. Thanks.”
    “So the redhead, she a sugar mama or something?” Artie kept it under a yell but just barely.
    “If she’s who I think she is, she’s a client.” I grabbed Artie’s shirt and yanked him closer, keeping my voice quiet. “Listen, the difference between your job and mine is that I don’t go around making a lot of noise, get me?”
    I was always surprised when Artie let me manhandle him that way, seeing as he outweighed me by fifty pounds or so, but maybe he thought I was a bunny too. At any rate, he was tittering about it.
    “Hey, gumshoe, don’t forget that’s my tie you’re wearing! Don’t get any blood on it!” he said. So much for keeping things quiet. Even though it didn’t seem like anyone was taking much notice of Artie.

    Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    63

    I went around the side of the club and spotted the midnight blue limo waiting at the curb with the engine running. I wondered if my client was planning on chasing me all over Vegas to get a report, because that would most definitely put a crimp in my style.
    The back door opened, and a gloved hand curled a finger at me. I walked over and bent down to peer inside. “Miss McIntyre.”
    “Get in, Grey, darling,” she said invitingly. “We’re going for a little ride.”
    Those were the exact words to strike fear in a man’s soul in those days, but somehow I didn’t think Lily was out to dust me. At least not yet. I slid in next to her, enjoying the delicacy of her scent after the heavy, cheap perfume favored by Suzy Velvour.
    “Where are we going, Miss McIntyre?”
    “I told you to call me Lily. Did you find out yet that I got Miss Saint-Ville her job?”
    “Yeah. Why didn’t you tell me about that?”
    “I figured a smart detective like you would nose it out quickly enough.”
    I almost wanted to tell her about Charlie, not wanting to take the credit for her work, but I didn’t need to reveal my methods. “You could have saved me some time by telling me yourself.”
    “But then you’d have had to check up on me anyway to be sure I was telling the truth, wouldn’t you?” Lily looked very pleased with herself. “I know, I read detective stories.”
    “Uh, those aren’t always true to life, you know,” I said.
    “Of course not. Artistic license.” She waved a hand gracefully.
    “But I wanted you to be able to tighten up the screws on witnesses on your own so you could give