Shallow Graves

my right forearm, catching the leg at the calf and wrapping it tight under my right armpit.
    Cotter had just enough sense of balance to stay up on his left leg. He was frustrated, pogo-sticking to maintain equilibrium against the edge of pain at his right knee.
    I said, “You know, Quinn, it takes only about twenty pounds of pressure to dislocate a joint.“
    “I can hit you... ten times... fuckhead!“
    “Yeah, but I don’t see you hopping your way onto TV.“
    It finally sank in. “Okay. Okay, let me go.“
    I released his leg and stepped away. He did too, posturing until he was ten feet from me. I sat back down, and after flexing, he did too.
    I tried to be conversational. “The police talked to you, right?“
    “Some cop called me, asked if I saw her that day. I told him no. Then he asked where I was that day. I told him here, watching videos. He said, ‘All day and all night?’ and I said, ‘Yeah, I like videos.’ Then he said, ‘Okay, thanks,’ and hung up.“
    “That’s it?“
    “Huh?“
    “That was it, no personal visit?“
    “Uh, no. No, just the call.“
    I thought about Holt, sitting behind his desk, diverting his people to other cases once he found out Mau Tim Dani was Tina Danucci.
    I said, “You ever go to Mau Tim’s apartment building?“
    “Sure.“
    “How often?“
    Cotter looked uncomfortable. “Couple times.“
    “You ever in her apartment itself?“
    “Uh, no.“
    “You were at her—“
    “I was over seeing Sinead, okay? I like brought her the spare keys once, but we were just friends.“
    I thought about that last flight of the fire escape again. “What spare keys?“
    “Lots of us leave a set at the agency, in case something comes up when we’re doing a location shoot somewheres.“
    “And the agency had a set of Mau Tim’s keys?“
    “No.“
    “No?“
    “I mean, I don’t know. I’m talking about Sinead’s keys.“
    “Sinead’s.“
    “Yeah, like to the front door of the house and her apartment Sinead forgot her keys one day, okay? And she called the agency from a shoot down by the waterfront, and I was at the agency, so George gave me her keys and I met her at her place to let her in.“
    “George Yulin gave you Sinead’s keys.“
    An exasperated look. “Right.“
    “You didn’t make a copy of the front door key?“
    “Hell, no. Why’d I do that?“
    “And you were never in Mau Tim’s apartment?“
    “No.“
    “How come?“
    Cotter tensed a bit, then tried to look casual. “She didn’t ask me up, okay?“
    “You ever ask her out?“
    “Yeah. Yeah, I asked her out. I ask a lot of the girls out. They ask me, too. Women’s lib, okay?“
    “But Mau Tim—“
    “Look, man! Let me save you some time. Mau was a great-looking chick, okay? But she just didn’t dig me. I wasn’t exotic enough for her.“
    “Exotic?“
    “Right. She went for different people, not the All-American halfback.“
    I wondered if other models thought of themselves as being what their business typed them. “But Sinead invited you to the party she was having for Mau Tim’s birthday.“
    “She invited me before she found out another guy was coming. Sinead didn’t want to embarrass me, okay, so she called me and said maybe it wouldn’t be such a great idea for me to show up Friday night.“
    “And so you stayed home.“
    “Right.“
    “Watching videos.“
    “Right.“
    “Alone.“
    “Most of the night.“
    “Who was with you?“
    “None of your business.“
    It seemed an odd place to turn turtle. I was about to try a different angle when I heard a heavy door open and close and a familiar voice call out, “Quinn? Quinn, you home?“
    A little color drained from Cotter’s face. “In the TV room.“
    As footsteps approached down what seemed a long hallway, the voice said, “Whose car is that in the drive?“
    Before Cotter could answer, George Yulin appeared in the doorway, a briefcase with shoulder strap like Nancy’s riding on the saddle of a tweed sports jacket today.
    “His,“ said Cotter.
    Yulin didn’t say anything.
    I said, “Join us.“
    Yulin came into the room slowly. He let the briefcase slide off his shoulder and onto the floor, watching me as he rested his rump and palms against the back of a chair. “What are you doing here?“
    “My job.“
    “Which is?“
    “Still the same. I’d appreciate your explaining to Quinn the importance of cooperating with my investigation.“
    Yulin looked at Cotter, who said, “George, you know this