Page 19 of The Birdwatcher

I thought of her in court, that pellucid skin, her magnificent reticence. My mind scampered away from a visual of her staring over the fat, freckled shoulder of some grunting bald professor. I’d rather work at the landfill.

I asked Ross, “Did you ever?”

“Ever what?”

“Did you ever sleep with Felicity? Or anyone who makes her living off sex?”

He laughed. “No!” And he added, “I don’t have to pay for it.”

“And there it is! That’s the second thing that if I had a dime for every time I’ve heard a guy say it...”

“But you blame guys who do. I don’t. But there’s an allure for a man with a night creature like that.” He added, “I’m speaking as a guy here, not as a psychologist.”

“A creature? Like a vixen? Like an animal? Being with a woman dozens of other guys have slept with?”

Ross said, “No, like she’d have special knowledge. As for the numbers, that’s what you’re looking at with most so-called nice girls these days anyhow.”

“How it’s always been for so-called nice men.”

“It’s more like the ultimate lack of connection, in psychological terms. Pleasure but no strings. No need to think about what she’s feeling or thinking or what she’ll feel or think later, tomorrow, or next week. Not me, this isn’t about me. But lots of men? They want exactly the opposite of what women want. If women really understood that...”

“They’d all be gay.”

“Reenie! So, you just want to revisit this old friendship for feminist reasons?”

“I want to know what led to this, and that, and the next thing. That’s my job.”

“I know exactly what you do, Reenie. My girlfriend would never buy a Miaow bag without your advice.”

“You mean a Miu Miu bag. Ah, but those are so 2019, Ross.” When he didn’t respond, I continued. “So what happened to make her quit school? What changed the whole picture? She got straight As. She had a great scholarship. You would think a breakdown, or a death, or a pregnancy, but those things didn’t happen.”

“Being serious now? Just my gut? If I had to guess, I would say the reason was the money,” Ross said. “It’s confusing. Felicity always seemed to be almost demure in a way, when I knew her.”

“It had to be more than money.”

“For a night, four thousand dollars. For a couple of hours, half that. That’s what I heard.”

Against my own will, I whistled. “Wow.”

“I know.”

“College professors can afford that?”

“Maybe they budgeted for it, like a car payment.”

Even if she worked only ten hours a week, only two weeks a month... it wouldn’t be long until... until what? She would have amassed hundreds of thousands. A fast, if ruinous, track to wealth? Those nontaxable earnings aside, there was also that life insurance money, the supposed motive for her crimes.

Ross said, “I don’t know the specifics. Just what people say.”

“Do you want to know?”

“Sure.”

“You know there were two guys,” I said. “Both of them had life insurance policies, one for five million dollars, one for two million, both with her as the beneficiary.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“It is,” I agreed. “The older guy, Emil Gardener...”