Free Scam by Parnell Hall

guy’s voice was low and strained and she figured he was disguising it.”
    “What did he say?”
    “Just what I told you. She’d go to the bar, hang out, pick you up, and keep you buying drinks until seven o’clock. She wasn’t given your name, you were described to her simply as a tall, thin white guy. Which leaves open the possibility this could have been a mistake.”
    “A mistake?”
    “Sure. There’s always the chance you’re the wrong tall, thin white guy, and the guy she was waiting for never showed up.”
    “That’s really far-fetched.”
    “Is it? In my experience, fuckups of that nature happen all the time.”
    “You might have told me that before I hired you,” Pritchert said dryly. Before I could think of a comeback, he went on. “I don’t think that merits consideration. I’m the guy, all right. I want to know what happened, and I want to know why. What’s the girl’s name again?”
    “Lucy Blaine.”
    “Lucy Blaine.”
    “I wouldn’t write it down where anyone can find it.”
    “Oh, thanks so much. Whaddya think I am, stupid?”
    I let that lie there.
    “What’s her address?” he said.
    “I don’t have it.”
    “You don’t have it?”
    “No.”
    “Or her phone number?”
    “I don’t have that either.”
    “You didn’t get her address or phone number?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Why the hell not?”
    “She wouldn’t give it to me.”
    “Give it to you? What are you, nuts? Give it to you? You found this girl, you talked to her, and then you let her walk away from you?”
    “It was either that or have her call the cops.”
    “So let her call the cops. Let her explain to the cops what she’s doing setting guys up in singles bars.”
    “Yeah, fine,” I said. “Then your story gets written up in the New York Post. I thought you had a proxy fight going on and wanted to hush this up.”
    “I do, but—”
    “Well, you can’t have it both ways. You’re either discreet or you start yelling you’ve been framed, and you keep yelling until someone believes you.”
    “All right, all right,” Pritchert said. “I don’t have time for that now. The point is, if you didn’t get her address or phone number, how are we going to reach her again?”
    “For one thing, we know where she works. For another, I got the name of her agent.”
    “Oh?”
    “Name’s Shelly Daniels. Got an office on Eighth Avenue. I got the phone number.”
    “How do you know it’s legit?”
    “She’s listed in the yellow pages.”
    “Uh-huh. You talk to her yet?”
    “No, but according to the girl, she actually met the guy. He came to her office, made all the preliminary arrangements. Which makes her a more important lead than the girl. Now, you want me to chase her down, I can, but it will have to be later in the day.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’m working this morning. I have two cases lined up for Rosenberg and Stone. I’ll knock ’em off as fast as I can, but it’s possible another case will come in. I’ll get to the agent quick as I can, I just can’t tell you when.”
    “Fine,” Pritchert said. “But I think your premise is wrong. The woman’s not important. The important thing is the girl. I need to know what happened during the time I blacked out.”
    “She says she doesn’t know.”
    “Yeah, but she’s probably lying. Okay, so this agent is our contact to the girl. And her name is ...what was it again?”
    “Shelly Daniels.”
    “Shelly Daniels. And the phone number?”
    I gave it to him. Waited while he wrote it down.
    “Now then,” I said. “Before we go any further, you owe me some money.”
    “How much?”
    “Quite a bit. The two hundred you gave me I paid out in bribes.”
    “Bribes?”
    “A hundred bucks to the bartender, and a hundred to the girl. That wipes that out. So you owe me for my time and expenses so far. I put in eight hours yesterday, I had two hours before. That’s five hundred dollars so far.”
    “Eight hours?”
    “You can’t