Page 76 of The Happy Month

“Yeah. It skirts libel by not directly identifying him and by calling him a suspect and nothing more.”

“Do you think he was a suspect?”

“Philburn seemed very excited by the possibility I might have proof that Patrick did it. Which suggests he doesn’t know who did it at all.”

“Isn’t it weird that none of the Karpinskis mentioned it to you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I said. “They’re weird.

We both ordered steak and potatoes. It seemed like a good call in a place like that. Ronnie had a second martini.

“Why would a police detective give any information to someone like Wallace Philburn?”

“Maybe he was hoping a book might shake something loose.”

“It didn’t though, did it?”

“Not that I can see. There’s never been an arrest.”

“Vera liked straight girls, or really girls who appeared straight.”

“Yes. I think that’s probably true.”

“And you think that got her killed.”

“That’s my working theory.”

“Of the women mentioned in the book, that leaves three possibilities: Betty Brooks, Virginia Marker and Georgia Dawson.”

“But we’re looking for a girl named Gigi.”

He started singing “Thank Heaven for Little Girls” with a French accent. Off my confused look, he said, “Gigi. The musical.”

I felt another night of musical viewing coming on. I changed the subject. “Of course, the only connection to Gigi is Rocky Havoc. She could be wrong. It could be a dead end.”

“Did you notice, when you were asking Wally questions he said something about his publisher not wanting too many single women in the book? But other than Vera, there aren’tanysingle women in the book.”

“And he likes to think he’s ethical.”

Ronnie shrugged and took a long sip of his martini. “He doesn’t have any idea who killed Vera.”

“You’re right. He doesn’t.”

The piano player started and wasn’t half bad. We had key lime pie for dessert with coffee.Ronnie ordered some cognac. After the waiter left, he looked at me and said, “What? I’m on vacation.”

Over dessert we chatted about the co-op and Ronnie’s clients. I raised the issue of Junior getting our bedroom and the possibility of his obtaining a section 8 housing voucher. Ronnie didn’t say much about the whole thing except, “If he can get the money, then of course he can have the room.”

More money from Junior and the ability to rent the room he was in for more would make everything work out well. If the 2nd Street house and the Bennett house paid for themselves, and the co-op cost very, very little, then Ronnie and I would be in excellent shape and well on our way to a down payment for property number four.

We stayed and listened to the piano player for a bit. Ronnie tipped him and asked for show tunes. He got through “If Ever I Should Leave You” and then Ronnie started to sing along. It was time to go.

By the time we got back to the hotel, the temperature was in the low nineties. It was barely ten, so we went for a naked swim in the pool. No one else was around. We floated back and forth staring up at the starry sky. The water was bathtub warm, close to the temperature of the air, which meant the moment you stood up or even let part of your body out of the water it evaporated and had a cooling effect.

Eventually, Ronnie cornered me in the shallow end for a kiss. The alcohol had made him soft and pliable, fuzzy even. Happiness swelled in my chest. I suppose we could have had sex right there. Even if someone showed up, they wouldn’t complain. Still, I led Ronnie back to our room, where it was guaranteed to be just us.

***

The next morning, after having breakfast poolside. Ronnie got naked again and jumped into the pool. I went into the room and moved the phone over to the table. Through the window I could watch my lover swim. I called Edwin’s office and got through to him.