‘Okay. Dusty, go talk to those two S.A. collectors. Put pressure on them. One or the other could be lying.’
Lucas, an eager beaver, nodded and took himself off.
Lepski leaned back in his chair. There was a nagging thought at the back of his mind that had nothing to do with police work. Next month would bring Carroll’s birthday, and he couldn’t remember the exact date. This fact had been bothering him for days. He wanted to buy her a present. He wanted to give her the present on the right day. He knew he would be in the doghouse for weeks if he didn’t come up, not only with the right date, but also, with the right present. This was something he had to avoid.
Vaguely, he remembered last year, he had taken Carroll to an expensive restaurant. Maybe the Maître d’ could give him the date. Then he realized he couldn’t remember the name of the restaurant. He thumped his fist on his desk with exasperation.
‘Got something on your mind, Tom?’ Jacoby asked, recognizing the signs.
‘Yeah. God help me, I’m trying to remember the date of Carroll’s birthday.’
‘The day after tomorrow,’ Jacoby said without hesitation.
Lepski half started from his chair, his eyes bulging.
‘You must be kidding! It’s next month!’
‘The day after tomorrow: the tenth,’ Jacoby said. ‘I keep a birthday book.’
‘A... what?’
‘We Jewish people are sentimental,’ Jacoby said, smiling. ‘I know we are known to be mean, but we are sentimental. My father kept a birthday book. He liked to send friends a card or a present. I keep a birthday book. Carroll is a friend. I’ve already bought her a bottle of perfume. It will be delivered the day after tomorrow.’
Lepski sucked in his breath.
‘You really mean it’s on the tenth?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Holy God!’ Lepski’s hands turned clammy. ‘I could have sworn it was next month! Perfume, huh? You’re sending her perfume?’
‘Well, I thought a wonderful girl like Carroll would like some perfume.’
‘Yeah... yeah.’ Lepski loosened his tie. ‘What the hell can I give her?’
Jacoby, who wasn’t married, but had a string of girlfriends, hid a grin.
‘Just look around, Tom. Girls like presents.’
‘Yeah.’ Lepski stared into space. ‘But what the hell what?’
‘A handbag. A dress. Jewels. Depends on how much you want to spend.’
‘It’s not how much I want to spend: it’s how much I can afford to spend,’ Lepski said. ‘A handbag, huh? That’s an idea. Yeah. I’ll give her a handbag.’
A voice said, ‘If you two will stop yakking, can I have some attention?’ A female voice, soft, sensuaclass="underline" a creamy voice.
Both detectives swung around and stared.
Standing at the barrier that divided the Detectives’ room from the visitors was a coloured girl, and what a girl!
Both Lepski and Jacoby pointed like gun dogs, then Lepski came fast to the barrier.
The girl was the colour of coffee, gently diluted with cream. She was tall and willowy. She wore close fitting white cotton slacks and a close fitting blood red jersey top. What this outfit did to her made Lepski breath heavily through his nose. He hadn’t seen a more perfect woman’s body! Big, half pineapple shaped breasts, a tiny waist, a voluptuous sweep of hips, long legs. Her features were sensuaclass="underline" a short, thin nose with slightly flared nostrils, big black eyes that glittered with life, and full lips that suggested untold promises. Some girl!
‘Yes, miss?’ Lepski said, looking into the black eyes and feeling his blood move down to where it shouldn’t have moved down — being a married man.
‘I’ve come about this jacket I saw on the telly last night,’ the girl said. Her voice reminded Lepski of Mae West’s in an old movie he had seen, murmuring ‘Come up and see me sometime.’
He opened the gate of the barrier.
‘Come on in,’ he said, aware that Jacoby was leaning over his desk, staring. ‘Have a seat.’
She moved by him. Her body flowed. Her breasts did a tiny jig. Following her, Lepski watched the movement of her hips. She sat in a chair opposite Lepski’s desk, opened her handbag and took from it a pack of Camels. Lepski searched through his pockets for a match, but she had already lit the cigarette with a solid gold lighter before he had found his matchbook.
He sat down and restrained a leer. He knew instinctively that this girl knew all the answers, and a detective, although first grade, was small fry to her, but that didn’t stop him from eyeing those beautiful breasts, scarcely concealed by the jersey top.
‘May I have your name, miss?’ he asked and drew a scratch pad towards him.
‘Doroles Hernandez. I live in apartment 165 Castle Avenue. My mother got screwed by a Spanish creep who ran a factory, and I was the product. I kept his name.’ She gave Lepski a brilliant smile, revealing perfect white teeth. ‘Just the background, Mr. Detective. Do you want more?’
Lepski whistled through his nose. He knew all about Castle Avenue: that was where the expensive hookers lived. So she was a hooker! Boy! He thought, if I wasn’t married and five years younger, I’d be up there at apartment 165 Castle Avenue, like a lizard after a fly!
‘You have information, Miss Hernandez,’ he asked in a carefully controlled voice.
‘Maybe... maybe not. I had a stand-up last night. The guy was sick or something,’ Doroles said, ‘so I put on the telly. I don’t usually look at the telly. It’s a drag, you know?’
‘Yeah. So you looked at the telly and saw the jacket... right?’ Lepski said, trying to keep his mind off those provocative breasts and on the work in hand.
‘That’s it.’ She gave him a sexy smile that almost destroyed his better feelings. ‘There I was all alone, with a gin martini for company...’ She paused and regarded him with her big, black eyes. ‘I bet you prefer Scotch, Mr. Detective.’
Lepski, who was now wondering just how marvellous she would look without clothes, started.
‘Yeah. So there you were alone and you saw the jacket?’
‘Yes. As soon as I saw it, I remembered.’ She turned her head and caught Jacoby leaning across his desk, breathing heavily, as he gaped at her. ‘Is he a detective?’ she asked. ‘He looks cute.’
‘His mother thought so,’ Lepski growled. ‘Let’s work on this, Miss Hernandez. You saw the jacket and you remembered. What did you remember?’
‘Call me Doroles.’ This in the Mae West voice.
Lepski was thankful the desk hid what was now happening to his lower section.
‘Yeah. Well, Doroles... what did you remember?’
‘I remembered seeing the jacket. I thought it was pretty sharp, you know? A real eye catcher.’
‘When did you see the jacket?’
‘When?’ She moved in the chair and her breasts did a little dance which was appreciated both by Lepski and Jacoby. ‘It was on the fifth.’
Lepski stiffened to attention. On the evening of the fifth, Janie Bandler had been murdered.
‘Are you sure about the date, Doroles? This is important.’
‘I’m sure. I’ll tell you for why. It’s Jamie’s birthday. Jamie is my dog. I took him to the Blue Sky restaurant. The Maître d’ loves Jamie. Do you like dogs, Mr. Detective?’
Lepski suppressed a growling noise. He hated dogs.
‘So you took your dog out. What time was this?’
‘Lunch time. I’m crazy about Jamie. He’s my best friend, you know? When I come home tired, he’s there waiting for me. He jumps all over me. He’s really sweet.’
Lepski snapped the pencil he was holding.
‘You were walking your dog? So what happened?’
She made a little grimace.
‘Well, this guy came up to me. Guys are always coming up to me, you know?’
Lepski could imagine. If he hadn’t been married, he would have gone up to her.