Part 14 (2/2)
”In Rosecourt?”
”No, Hollywood. It's on Hollywood Boulevard.”
”She told you her name was Lois?”
”Yes.”
”Last name?”
”She never said.” I don't know why I lie about this. I'm going solely by instinct. Somehow I want him to think I didn't know her well, not well at all. If I knew her well enough to know her last name, wouldn't I have known enough to stop- ”What was she doing there?”
”Pa.s.sing the time,” I say with a shrug.
”Is that what you were doing there?” he asks, scribbling, not meeting my gaze.
I straighten in my seat. ”I would go with my girlfriends. Sometimes on a date.”
”What kinds of dates?” He looks up at me with a slight pause.
”Kinds of dates? What do you mean?” He looks at me for a moment. ”Skip it,” he says, returning to his writing pad. ”How regular would you see her there?”
”Once or twice a month.”
”How'd you happen to talk with her?”
”I don't know. I think maybe someone I was with knew her or vice versa. I really can't remember.”
”What kinds of things did you talk about?” He continues writing.
”Girl stuff. Hair, men.” I try a smile. ”She was doing some acting and modeling.”
”Modeling?”
”That's what she said.”
”What do you do?”
”Pardon? What?”
”Do you have a job?”
'Yes, I ... I give sewing lessons.” I don't know where this comes from.
He writes something down. Then, ”Did she ever tell you about any men she dated? Men she knew?”
”Yes.” Here is my chance. ”She told me once about a man who would ... do things to her.”
”Things?”
”She would have burn marks. He would burn her.”
”With cigarettes?”
'Yes.”
”Did they use narcotics together?”
”I don't know.”
”But you knew she used them.'
”I saw the marks.”
”And you knew what they meant?”
”I don't use narcotics, Detective, if that's what you mean.”
”Was she very scared of this guy?”
”I guess. She must have been. But she'd been, you know, around the block a few times. Nothing much surprised her.”
”Did she tell you anything about this man? What he did? Where he lived?”
”He worked in the movies,” I say, tightening my fingers over my purse. ”He worked for a studio.”
”Which studio?”
”I don't know. She worked for RKO and Republic. I do know that.”
”So you think he did, too? Did you get the idea he might have got her jobs?”
”I don't know.”
”Did she tell you anything else about him?”
”No.”
”When was the last time you saw her?”
”A few weeks ago.” Here, because it seems easier, safer, I just lie. Somehow telling him about the recent episode at the Rest E-Z Motel seems too risky, too involved.
”At the Red Room Lounge?”
”Yes. Right. The Red Room.”
He pushes a piece of paper over at me.
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