Private Dick Casefile 01 - Lily White Rose Red

faith in you, Mr. Randall,” she assured me.
    She crossed her legs and leaned forward, one silk-clad leg against the other making a hushing noise like rain, and said, “All you have to do is find him. I have ways to take care of him later. If you catch him before the week is out, there could be a bonus in it for you as well.”
    “What kind of bonus?”
    “That’s up for negotiation.” Something in her smile made me feel like we were talking a whole different currency here.
    “You’re a fascinating lady, Miss Lily.”
    She threw back her head and laughed. “I’m no lady, darling. I’m a woman, full-grown.”
    “Yeah,” I agreed. “Armed and dangerous.”
    “Who knows, maybe I could teach you something.”
    “Oh, I have no doubt of that.” Even though she wasn’t packing the right equipment, I’m sure I could have learned a lot from her.
    “Where do I call you when I catch him?”
    “I like your style, Mr. Randall. You’re confident. That’s good in a man.”
    “Thank you, Miss McIntyre. And your number?”
    “So you knew all along? I see I’ve found the right man for the job.” She recited her number. I didn’t make a move to write it down, and she seemed to approve. “This job is likely to be difficult.”
    “Trouble is my business, Miss McIntyre, and I’m open twenty-four hours. Why the time limit?”
    “We don’t want to give him time to—dispose of the evidence, shall we say?” She stood up, and I circled my desk to pick up her fur thing and set it on her shoulders. She put her hand over one of mine with a grip of iron. “I suspect that you won’t let me down, Mr. Randall.

    Lily White, Rose Red: Grey Randall, Private Dick Casefile #1
    13

    But before you let anyone know that you’re working for me, get yourself a new tie.”
    “What’s wrong with my tie, other than your footprint on it?” I looked down at it. Dark blue with red and yellow stripes. It was just a regular tie.
    “It’s hideous. A handsome man like you can do so much better.” Then she turned and walked out.
    “Hideous?” I muttered, staring at my tie.
    “ Hideous , darling!” Her voice floated back from the hallway, followed by a throaty laugh.
    I went to the window and waited for her to emerge from the building. A middle-aged colored man was standing by a big shiny limousine, and he held the door open for her when she came out. A Lincoln two-tone, midnight blue, 1948. I would have loved to drive that car. He handed her into the back seat and circled the car to get in the driver’s side. I watched it start to roll and turn at the corner.
    She was lying. Miss Lily McIntyre was lying to me, from start to finish, but somehow I could tell this was the start of something big for me.
    All I had to do now was find out what the fuck it was I was really supposed to be finding out.
    I sat down and entertained myself by trying to read my name backwards on the frosted glass in the door: evitceteD etavirP lladnaR
    yerG. Yerg! What was I thinking? I had to get to work. I had a case to solve.

    COPS don’t exactly love private dicks. If a dick cracks a case that they couldn’t solve, it makes them look bad. Dicks can do things the cops can’t, at least not that the fuzz can be caught doing. For instance, we can lean on a suspect a little harder or bribe them to go canary. If I’m on a case, I can work it full time without having to stop and hand out a ticket for jaywalking.

    14

    CATT FORD

    On the other hand, cops swing a lot of weight that I don’t have. I can’t force a witness to see me if they refuse. A cop can get a warrant to get face to face, even if they can’t make a witness sing.
    So it’s pretty safe to say that the cops weren’t going to be overjoyed to give me the bird’s-eye lowdown on this caper. Still, I was on good terms with a few city employees. Everyone in Vegas had known of Captain Billy Woods of the downtown precinct since he’d come to Vegas two years ago, but I didn’t know him personally. I had a guarded relationship with his second in command, Lt. Tom Steele, and a not-quite-so-guarded friendship with my old pal Reggie Harding.
    It always helps to have an inside man, and it helps to know where he goes to tie the feedbag on. Reggie liked this little diner over on 3rd, Nancy’s Diner. I’d never set foot in there before, but that was where I headed now to get the scoop on the case.
    Even if Reggie wasn’t working on it, cops are terrible gossips, and he’d know all about