Tales of the City 01 - Tales of the City

away from the precipice. “What you are doing is … against the law, for one thing.”
    “Ha! You think I don’t know that?”
    “How could you, Norman? You’ve always been so sweet to Lexy.”
    “So?”
    “I won’t stand for it, Norman. I’m calling that child’s parents.”
    “You think they don’t know?”
    She clenched her teeth. “Dear God!”
    “How the hell you think they make a livin’, huh? Lexy’s a goddamn star! She’s a goddamn famous little … Hell, I’m jus’ … her agent!”
    “But you’re in the magazines!”
    He nodded almost proudly. “A few movies too.”
    “Jesus.”
    “I can’t help it. She won’t do it with anybody else.”
    “Norman!”
    “You think I’m chickenshit, don’t you? You think I’m a chickenshit child pornographer!”
    “Norman, stop …”
    “I’ve got news for you, Miss Fancypants! I’m a goddamn private investigator and I’m jus’ about to break the biggest goddamn case of my goddamn career!”
    “Norman, get away from the …”
    She couldn’t look.
    When she turned around again, he was lumbering down the path along the edge of the cliff. To her relief, he had moved beyond the precipitous portion to a place where the drop-off seemed less pronounced.
    “Norman, come back!”
    He snarled over his shoulder at her. “Find your own goddamn way home!”
    Then, suddenly, he lost his footing, sliding off the path into the loose rock and sand on the slope leading to the sea.
    She ran to him, horror-stricken. He was spread-eagled on his back, thrashing like an overturned cockroach. A dozen feet below him another cliff awaited. He whimpered pathetically.
    “Please … jus’ help me, please….”
    Mary Ann dropped to the ground and reached as far as she could down the slope. “Don’t move, Norman. Just hold still, O.K.?”
    He wasn’t listening. His limbs flailed wildly until the ground beneath him began to shift and rumble like molten lava. She lunged desperately for his arm and missed.
    His progress to the edge of the cliff was slow, steady and horrible.
    He left behind his clip-on tie, dangling limply from her hand.
    She ran back to the museum in the swirling fog, his screams reverberating in her head.
    In the phone booth, she checked her purse. Thirty-seven cents. She had counted on riding home with Norman.
    She dialed 673-MUNI.
    “Muni,” said a man on the other end.
    “Please … how do I get to Barbary Lane from the Legion of Honor?”
    “Barbary Lane? Let’s see. O.K…. walk down to Clement and Thirty-fourth and take the Number 2 Clement to Post and Powell, then transfer to the Number 60 Hyde cable car.”
    “The Number 2 Clement?”
    “Yes.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Sure. And Merry Christmas!”
    “Merry Christmas to you,” she said.

The Party
    W HERE’S MARY ANN?” ASKED CONNIE BRADSHAW, standing under Mrs. Madrigal’s red-tasseled archway. “I thought you said she’d be here.”
    Brian selected a joint from a Wedgewood plate. “She’s here. At least … I saw her
    upstairs.”
    “Jeez, it’s been a zillion years since I’ve seen her!”
    “You two are good friends, huh?”
    “Oh, the best! I mean … we haven’t been too good about keeping in touch or anything, but … well, you know how it goes in this town.”
    “Sure.”
    “Uh … I think someone wants to talk to you, Brian.”
    “Oh … Hi, Michael.”
    “Hi. You haven’t seen Gale Storm, have you?”
    “Who?”
    “Mary Ann.”
    Brian took a toke off the joint, then passed it to Connie. “We were just talking about that. What’s with her, anyway? I thought she was orchestrating this orgy.”
    “She was. I guess she’s fixing her face or something. Hey, don’t go ‘way. I’ve got something for you.” He ducked into the kitchen and returned with a small package wrapped in silver foil.
    Brian flushed. “Hey, man … we said no presents, remember?”
    “I know,” said Michael, “but this isn’t for Christmas, really. I just forgot to give it to you earlier.”
    “That’s nice,” Connie beamed.
    Brian glanced at her, then back at Michael. There was something more impish than usual about Michael’s grin. “Hey, Michael, this isn’t …?”
    “Go on,” squealed Connie. “I can’t stand the suspense!”
    Brian looked directly into Michael’s eyes. “Shall I?” He smiled.
    “What the hell. The sooner you open it, the sooner you can use it.”
    “Right!” Connie agreed.
    Brian tore into the package. He was fully prepared when