Free Muller, Marcia - [10] The Shape of Dread (v1.0) (html) Page B

Gardens had served to stimulate property trading, and
once-low rents had risen tenfold in only a dozen years.
    "What do you mean—holding?" I asked.
    "Just as it sounds. We're maintaining the existing structures and
renting them out. We'll develop the properties after the city adopts
definitive growth controls. I've a theory that runs contrary to what
most developers would tell you: too much money has been pumped into
commercial property in the last few years. There's bound to be a
downswing. I've always survived the down cycles by buying undervalued
parcels and holding onto them until the upswing. That's the policy Jay
and I are—"
    The office door opened. I looked that way, expecting to see Larkey.
A woman stood there instead. She was tall, close to six feet, and clad
in a long red leather coat, boots, and a floppy red hat. Black curls
framed a face whose handsomeness was
marred by a slash of blood-red lipstick. She wore numerous rings, a
great deal of Giorgio perfume, and a suddenly sour expression. After
she recovered from her initial surprise at seeing a stranger in
Larkey's chair, her eyes flicked over me appraisingly, then dismissed
me as no competition.
    The look told me more about her than she'd probably care for me to
know: she was one of that type who don't like other women, would have
no close women friends. To her the rest of us represented the enemy,
who might steal her man or her place in the spotlight. I instantly
distrust a woman like her, just as I do a man who dislikes others of
his gender.
    Rob Soriano seemed amused by the look. He said, "Kathy, this is
Sharon McCone. She's a private investigator working on the Kostakos
murder. Sharon—my wife, Kathy."
    Kathy Soriano frowned at me. "I thought the Kostakos case was a dead
issue, pun intended." Before I could reply, she added, "Look, Rob, we
need to check out the new girl in the ten-o'clock slot. Where's Jay?"
    "Right behind you," Larkey's voice said. He pushed around her and
said apologetically to me, "Sorry I had to cut our conversation short.
Can we continue it another time?"
    I stood up and came around the desk. "Sure. If it's okay with you, I
want to talk with Marc Emmons and your parking attendants. I'll check
back with you later."
    Larkey gave me a card printed with both his numbers at the club and
at home. The four of us left the office and went down the hall, Kathy
prattling about how she and Rob didn't think the new comedian in the
ten-o'clock slot was going to work out. Wasn't it a pity, she said,
that the Kostakos case really was a dead issue? The little girl had
shown a lot of talent.
    "I'll never forget the routine about the feminist. It wasn't even
what she said but how she said it: 'If God had meant for us to
have hairy armpits, would She have given us Nair?'" Rob Soriano grunted
in annoyance and strode ahead of us. Larkey said, "I hate it when you
mimic her like that. It's as if she's right here with us—but she's not."
    "Oh, Jay, lighten up!"
    Larkey didn't reply, merely hunched his shoulders inside his sweat
suit. Whether the woman was embarrassing him or had seriously upset
him, I couldn't tell. When we entered the club itself, he winked at me
and followed the Sorianos to a reserved table at the rear.
    I went to stand by the bar, watching the new comedian begin her
routine until the busy barkeep could get to me. She was actually pretty
funny, delivering a rapid-fire commentary on some of the more
outrageous headlines in the tabloid newspapers; I made a mental note to
tell Ted Smailey he should catch her act—quickly, in case Kathy and Rob
Soriano's opinion of it prevailed.
    The bartender spoke over my shoulder. I declined a drink and asked
where I could find Marc Emmons.
    "He left as soon as he finished his routine." The man paused. "Funny
about that—he asked me if Jay was free, and I said he was talking to a
private eye about Tracy. I thought he'd be excited, want to sit in on
the conversation, but all of a sudden he split."
    Now,