Rosie did most of the driving while Lorraine map-read. They only stopped for gasoline but it was after midnight when they arrived in San Francisco and booked into a cheap motel on the outskirts. Rosie was hungry so went out for a takeout hamburger and french fries, bringing one back for Lorraine, who was deeply asleep so Rosie ate it herself. She couldn’t sleep, and tossed and turned, her bed creaking ominously, but Lorraine slept on. Rosie propped herself up on her elbow and looked over to her friend. In the blue light from the forecourt that broke through the motel’s thin curtains, she studied Lorraine’s sleeping face. The transformation from when they had first met was astonishing. She was a different woman in every way — less aggressive, more content within herself, more confident, more womanly.
Lorraine woke early. Rosie was dead to the world so she slipped into the bathroom and took a shower. As she soaped herself she thought about Brad Thorburn. She heard the way she had spoken to him, saw him so hurt, so bewildered. They would probably never meet again and he would never know just how much he had meant to her, what he had done for her. He had made her feel loved, wanted, had made some dead part of her revive. Brad Thorburn had woken her as a woman.
After breakfast, Lorraine took a street map of San Francisco, marked their destination with a cross and passed it over to Rosie. ‘You’re the driver. That’s where we got to get to.’
‘Who we seeing?’
Lorraine hesitated. In all fairness Rosie should know why they had come here. ‘I think that Janklow didn’t kill Holly or Didi. Nula lied to me. She said that she and Didi were working together the night Holly was killed but Holly’s pimp said Nula was on her own. I think it’s got something to do with Art. Also, I think Nula lied about where Didi was the night she was murdered. It’s Nula we’re going to see. Curtis gave me the address but I don’t want to scare her off. I just want her to tell me a few things.’
‘Are you gonna get paid for this?’
‘Five thousand dollars from Ed Bickerstaff, and Curtis said he’d give me two grand if I got Holly’s killer, so we’ll have enough to open the agency.’
Lorraine called Nula’s number. A sleepy voice answered and she hung up. She recognized Nula’s voice.
She and Rosie left the motel, bought a morning paper and Rosie headed into the city. They were hemmed in by traffic and the streets were a confusing mass of one-way systems but they finally turned into Delaware Road.
‘Slow right down, real slow,’ Lorraine said. ‘Let’s check the numbers, it’s apartment building 182. There it is!’
Rosie pulled up outside a dilapidated four-storey building.
Lorraine gazed up at it, checked the fire escape and then opened the car door. ‘I’ll be about half an hour. Sit tight.’ Rosie picked up the newspaper and prepared herself for the wait. Lorraine checked the names on the apartments and then made her way up an old stone staircase littered with garbage to the third floor. She rapped hard on the door of apartment 23 and waited.
‘Who is it?’
‘Surprise, Nula, open up, it’s me.’
The eye-hole slid back, and bolts and chain locks were removed. Nula opened the door. ‘Jesus Christ, how did you find me?’
‘Curtis said you were here. As I was passing, I thought I’d call in.’ Nula opened the door wider and Lorraine stepped inside. Nula was wearing a tatty kimono and she was barefoot. ‘It’s only nine o’clock, for chrissakes.’
Lorraine apologized and followed her into the bed-sitting room. It was a mess, crammed with dresses and bags, cases half unpacked and old food cartons. ‘I just moved in, bit of a come-down but then I’m not gonna be here permanently. It used to belong to a friend and they’re on tour in a big show so I’ve got it for a few months. Sit down.’ Nula folded her arms and looked over Lorraine. She pursed her lips. ‘Looking very chic, dear, come into money? That’s a very expensive suit.’ She sat at her dressing table, fiddled with her hair and checked her face. ‘I look like a piece of shit but I was working nearly all night. Girl’s got to do what she has to do to earn a living but Christ, this is a shit-hole. The pay isn’t half as good as in LA.’
Lorraine told Nula about Janklow, how he had admitted all the murders, including Didi and Holly. Nula closed her eyes. ‘Thank God. I’ve been praying they get the bastard and I know about Art. I cried my heart out but he took his life so I guess that’s what he wanted. Those bastards pushed him, the shits, and he was innocent. But why are you here?’
‘Work. I’m with an investigation agency.’
Nula shrieked with laughter, then pointed at Lorraine. ‘You were a cop, weren’t you? Well, I hope you’ve not come to arrest me.’ She brushed her hair, looking at Lorraine in the mirror. She was getting uneasy, Lorraine could sense it.
‘What do you want?’ Nula asked.
‘Well, I’m trying to piece a few things together. You said on the night Holly died Didi was with you, that you both saw her cross the road but Curtis said Didi wasn’t there, you were alone.’ She paused.
Nula motioned for her to continue.
‘Nula, I think Art killed Holly and Didi but I got to have evidence to prove it. Whatever you tell me won’t be used against you — I’ll keep your name out of it and it won’t hurt Art because he’s dead. It’ll really help me. It’s Mrs Thorburn’s jewellery I’m interested in or what pieces you’ve got left.’
Nula blinked rapidly and swivelled round. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Lorraine got up and walked towards Nula. ‘The last meal Didi ate was home-made banana bread. She was at home, wasn’t she? Not, as you said, out working. Curtis said she didn’t show that night because her foot was still hurting. You said she’d been out all day with a regular, but that wasn’t true, was it? Now, did Art come round?’
Nula began to paint her nails. ‘Bullshit, dear. She went out, and then I was told she’d been murdered. You even called the apartment.’
‘The ring on Didi’s finger, the one you said she couldn’t take off, was Mrs Thorburn’s, wasn’t it? Well, I’d never seen her wearing it before so she must have been able to get it off. So I think it’s something to do with that ring. Is that why Art killed her? Because of the ring?’
Nula painted the last nail of her right hand and began on the left with studied concentration. Lorraine moved closer. ‘Didi and Art were blackmailing Steven Janklow. Art was cleaning up, wasn’t he? He used Didi to make contact and to pick up the jewels. Where did she pick them up from? Janklow’s garage? Was that where they did the exchange?’
Nula continued to paint her nails. ‘Listen, dear, why don’t you go and do your Perry Mason someplace else? Didi was my closest friend, we adored each other and we both loved little Holly — neither of us would hurt her. Whatever she was doing with Art — she never let on about it to me.’
‘Maybe not, but Art might have got angry with her. Maybe it was Art that picked Holly up?’
Nula wafted her nails about to dry them. ‘To be honest, dear, I don’t know what you’re getting at. You’ve had a wasted journey.’
‘Come on, Nula, I know you have to be in on it. Janklow listed a lot of Mrs Thorburn’s jewellery but he didn’t sell it. Did he give it to Art?’
‘I don’t know,’ Nula snapped.
Lorraine shrugged. ‘Fine, I’ll go, but I won’t keep quiet. You must know something because you had to be in on it.’ She tried a different tactic. ‘Look, I don’t like to do this but I’m broke. Maybe I’ll keep quiet if you give me a cut. I want money to keep my mouth shut, Nula. I lied about the agency crap — who’s ever gonna employ me?