“Must have been interesting wording on that tax form.”
She gestured to a chair and I sat, while she perched nearby on the edge of her desk. A lot of leg showed, thanks to a slit in the black dress—nicely rounded gams, more substantial than the Twiggy types, and fine by me.
“Sure burned my husband’s heinie, though,” she said with a chuckle. “He bitched about not getting even with you till the day he died—indignant to the end...and with all the people he screwed over, who never got even with him!”
“We all see the world through our end of the telescope, Bunny.”
She shook her head. Great smile on the gal, lots of white teeth that were maybe even hers. “What did you ever do with that dough? Better than half a million you nipped us for. And that was back when half a mil was money.”
“Well, I saw some of the world I hadn’t seen so far. You know me and boats.” I leaned back and gave her the onceover. “You look pretty damn good, Bunny. Don’t you know madams aren’t supposed to look better than their girls? Crazy hair, though.”
She touched a purple streak. “Sets me off from those girls. Like the man says, a madam has to look like a madam, otherwise she’d disappoint the customers.” She paused and laughed again. “Anyway, I’m not fool enough to believe I can compete with my girls.” She touched her generous bosom. “This chick has got some miles on her...but at least I found my level.”
“What happened to high society?”
She snorted a laugh. “The grande dames booted me out ...and now I socialize more with their husbands than I ever did with them. As a matter of fact, I’ve begun to think I’ve found the profession I was truly cut out for. The old fox knew what he was doing when he bought this place back when he had the bread...this was the only investment we hung onto! So don’t feel sorry for me.”
“Never that, Bunny.”
She stared at me, as if through new eyes. “So you’re the one that got the mission,” she mused. “I didn’t know who it would be.”
“You’re playing kind of funny games, aren’t you, Bunny? Traveling in strange circles?”
Her smile turned sideways. “That makes two of us, doesn’t it?”
“I could expect it of me.”
“But not of me, eh? Well, my old friend, don’t fool yourself. Times have changed, people change with them. I’m here, where I am accepted, instead of castigated, and I have good friends in strange places. Anyway, the old fox and I had investments in Cuba that we lost when that bearded bum took over.”
I grinned big. “Ah. So there lies the source of your Cuban exile sympathies.”
“They’re nice people, and I don’t like to see nice people get hurt.” She reached out and squeezed my arm. “I’m glad it’s you, Morgan. It’ll take a man like you to take Jaimie Halaquez down. I’m going to follow this with pleasure.” She tossed a thumb at Gaita, who had melted back into the periphery. “They’ve assigned you a good one.” Then to Gaita, “Do you have everything ready?”
“For this evening, madam? Yes.”
“Good. Then take Morgan back to your room and keep him out of sight until it’s time. He’ll need a lot of filling in.”
I sat forward. “This little kitten’s already done a good share of filling me in. But you could do some more.”
Bunny’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
“What can you tell me about Halaquez?”
The madam was frowning. “What has Gaita told you?”
“That he was a patron here. That he’s a ruthless killer with sadistic tastes that bleed over into his sexual kinks.”
Her laugh held a hollow ring. “Well, Morg, you seem to know the score already.”
I shook my head. “I need to really know this bastard if I’m going to track him. Get specific, doll.”
She frowned. Mentally, she sorted through file cards, selecting just the right facts, just the right words. “He’s an odd one, even for a customer into bondage and discipline. He wants the shame of it, even to torture. His needs extend well beyond what we provide here at Mandor.”
“Such as?”
“The lash.”
My jaw damn near dropped. “He wants to be whipped?”
“Yes. But that is not why we came to forbid him from our doors.”
“You banned his ass?”
She nodded. “The game of submission is such that there are guidelines—lines that don’t get crossed, code words agreed upon to stop the game. But he would push the women hired to dominate him—beg them for more.”
“More torture?”
“More pain. Yes.”
I thought about it. “Okay. So the idiot wants his ass whipped. Whip it, and take his credit card number. Why not?”
“If only it were that simple.” Bunny glanced at Gaita, whose head was lowered. “When the game was over, when the girl had done whatever he asked...he would pay, as required, he would even provide a handsome tip. But on occasion...not every time, perhaps once every three visits, then later on, after every other visit...he would punish the girl.”
Frowning, I said, “I thought these freaks liked being dominated.”
“Oh, they do. But when the game is over, some feel shame, and a sado-masochistic bastard like Halaquez will suddenly take it out on the very person he hired to humiliate him.”
I shook my head; my belly was tight with disgust. “Getting even for indignities he’d paid to have done to him. Man. This is one sick puppy.”
“Yes,” Bunny said. “Someone should put him out of his misery.”
“But this is great,” I said, beaming at her.
“Great?”
“Now we have a lead. Now we know how he gets his jollies, and it’s from a menu served up at a limited number of venues. You must know other houses or girls working solo, doing the S & M thing. It’s a way to find him.”
Bunny’s eyes were tight. “I think you will find Mr. Halaquez is banned from all such establishments, and the word’s gotten around among the women who work the bondage trade out of their apartments, as well. But I will give you a list, if you think that may help.”
“Sure. It’s a start.”
“The only other thing, Morgan...but it’s a long shot.”
“Hell. Guys get rich playing long shots. Go.”
Again she chose her words carefully. “There is a rumor... and for now it’s just a rumor...that the Consummata is setting up shop in Miami.”
I blinked. “Who or what is the ‘Consummata’?”
“A very famous dominatrix, at least famous in certain circles.”
“From Miami?”
“From nowhere. From everywhere. Sometimes she works alone, by appointment through intermediaries. Other times she has set up a location with other young women trained in the arts of sado-masochism. And, again, clients are by referral only. She has turned up in every major city in America and not a few in Europe. Her clients, they say, are among the most rich and powerful men in business and government. If she exists.”
“You don’t even know if she exists?”
“She is a rumor. A wisp of smoke. A legend. A dream. Lovely, a vision in black leather, they say...and, brother, would I hire her for the Mandor in a heartbeat.”
“How do I find her?”
Her laugh was inaudible. “I don’t think you can. But I can put the word out. If Jaimie Halaquez hears that the Consummata has graced Miami with her presence, he will certainly try to make an appointment with her. Any concerns for his safety, anything smacking of common sense, will fly from his evil mind.”
“Consummata,” I said, tasting the word. “What is that? Spanish? Italian?”