Scam

I stood there, waited for him to make his move.
    “Let’s go over it again,” Belcher said. “What time were you in here last night?”
    “It must have been close to four o’clock.”
    “You were in here talking to the agent about the topless dancer?”
    “That’s right.”
    “She wouldn’t give you a phone number or address?”
    “No, she wouldn’t.”
    “Did she show you a picture?”
    “Picture?”
    “Yeah.”
    “No, she didn’t. Why?”
    “Did she offer to get in touch with the girl for you?”
    “No, she didn’t.”
    “You paid this woman a hundred bucks?”
    “Yes, I did.”
    “What for?”
    “For information.”
    “To tell you what she knew?”
    “Right.”
    “You paid her a hundred bucks to tell what she knew, and she wouldn’t tell you the girl’s phone number or address?”
    “Sounds like hell when you put it like that.”
    “Is that a fact?”
    “Yeah, that’s a fact.”
    “What time was it when you left here last night?”
    “Around four-fifteen, four-thirty. Somewhere in there.”
    “That’s the last time you saw this woman?”
    “That’s right.”
    Belcher nodded, jerked his thumb. “Okay. Let’s go.”
    I followed Belcher upstairs to Shelly Daniels’ talent agency, steeling myself for the sight of her dead body.
    Only it wasn’t there.
    Shelly Daniels was not in the room.
    Darren “Sandy” Carter was. The bartender was seated at the desk, leafing through a stack of eight-by-ten photos.
    When he saw me, he stopped and said, “You.”
    “What are you doing here?”
    “What does it look like?” he said. “And hey, thanks a lot.”
    “What?”
    “For siccin’ the cops on me. I mean, thanks a heap.”
    “Wait a minute,” I said. “Where’s Shelly Daniels?”
    “Ah,” Belcher said. “Very good question. I was hoping you could help me out with that.”
    “What?”
    “Well, you gave me this address, but not her home address. And we can’t find it.”
    “Huh?”
    “Which is a little unusual. I mean, the woman has to live somewhere. You’d expect some record to exist.”
    I put up my hands. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me she’s not dead?”
    “Dead? Why did you think she was dead?”
    I took a breath. “Maybe I read too many murder mysteries. I’m sorry, but I thought that was why you called me in here.”
    “No, we called you in here ’cause we’re lookin’ for the woman. We can’t find her.” He shrugged. “Now, a business of this sort, it doesn’t necessarily have to open nine o’clock. When she didn’t show up then, we weren’t concerned. At ten we’re beginning to wonder. By eleven it’s a little much.” He looked at his watch. “It is now after twelve. Maybe the woman keeps strange hours, she could come walking in that door any minute. But as far as I’m concerned, she’s missing, and I’d like to know why.”
    “You expect me to tell you?”
    “Not at all.” He jerked his thumb. “I expect you to help your friend out with his task.”
    “What’s that?”
    “The dancer. You gave us two names. Marla Melons and Lucy Blaine. Neither are on the Rolodex. Which is not surprising—those listings appear to be mainly businesses. Unfortunately, if this agent has an address book she has it with her. Which leaves the files. They’re crammed with pictures. Resume photos. They’re somewhat in alphabetical order, but, again, there is no Marla Melons or Lucy Blaine. Of course, the girl might have worked under another name.”
    “Oh, no.”
    “Oh, yes.” Belcher nodded. “I would suggest you pull up a chair.” He jerked his thumb toward the file cabinets, which were bulging. “Could be a long afternoon.”

26.
    M ACAULLIF WASN’T SURPRISED TO see me.
    “So,” he said, “what kept you?”
    I flopped into the chair next to his desk, ran my hand over my face. “You wouldn’t believe.”
    “I’m very gullible. I’ll believe anything.”
    “Oh, yeah? Well, I happen to have spent the last four hours looking at pictures of girls with big tits.”
    MacAullif shrugged. “So? I would imagine you do that almost every day. What’s so special this time? Someone pay you to do it?”
    “Not so’s you could notice.”
    “It have something to do with the case?”
    “What case?”
    “There was a murder yesterday. Tall drink of water. Went about six six.”
    “That seems to ring a bell. As a matter of fact, I think I may have found the body.”
    “Yeah, well don’t expect a lot of credit. A six six corpse is