Sue Grafton - K Is For Killer

"At least you know he's not on the take," I said.

"Cops in this town don't take money," she said. "They have too much fun sticking people in the can. He's got a much nicer car, but he's too paranoid to bring it down here. So. Enough with the chitchat, get-to-know-you bullshit. What do you want to know about Lorna?"

"As much as you can tell me. How long did you know her?"

Danielle's mouth pulled down in a facial shrug. "Couple of years. We met working for this escort service. She was a good person. She was like a mother to me. She was my what-do-you-call-'em… mentor… only now I see I should have listened to her more."

"How so?"

"Lorna killed me. She was great. She really blew me away. I was like totally in awe. She knew what she wanted and she went after it, and if you didn't like where she was coming from, then it was too bad for you."

"What did she want?"

"A million bucks, for starters. She wanted to retire by the time she was thirty. She could have done it, too, if she'd lived long enough."

"How'd she propose to do it?"

"How do you think?"

"That's a lot of time on your back," I said.

"Not at the rates she charged. After she left the escort service? She was making two hundred thousand dollars a year. Two hundred thousand. I couldn't believe it. She was smart. She invested. She didn't blow money the way I would've if I'd been in her shoes. I got no head for finance. What's in my pocket I spend, and when it's gone, I start over. At least I used to be that way until she straightened me out."

"What was she going to do when she retired?"

"Travel. Goof off. Maybe marry some guy who'd take care of her for life. Thing is… and here's what she kept hammering at me about… you got money, you're independent. You can do anything you want. Some guy mistreats you, you get the fuck out. You can walk. Know what I'm saying?"

"That's my philosophy," I said.

"Yeah, mine, too, now. After she died, I opened a little savings account, and I salt it away. It's not much, but it's enough, and I'm going to let it sit. That's what Lorna always said. You put it in the bank and you let it collect interest. She put a lot of her money in blue-chip stocks, municipal bonds, shit like that, but she did it all herself. She wasn't into this business about financial managers and people like that, because, for one thing, she said it's the perfect excuse for some asshole to come along and rip you off. You know stockbrokers? She called 'em portfolio pimps." She laughed at the phrase, apparently amused at the idea of procurers on Wall Street. "How about you? You got savings?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Where is it? What'd you do with it?"

"I put it in CDs," I said, feeling faintly sensitive on the subject. It seemed strange defending my financial strategy to some girl who worked the streets.

"That's good. Lorna did some of that, too. She liked tax-free munis, and she had some of her money in Ginnie Maes, whatever they are. Listen to us. This is what I like. Talkin' about all this long-term stuff. You have money, that's power, and no guy can come along and punch your lights out, right?"

"You mentioned her making two hundred thousand. She pay taxes on the money?"

"Of course! Never fuck with the feds, was her first rule of thumb. That's the first thing she taught me. Anything you make, you declare. Know how they got Al Capone and those guys? Undeclared income. You cheat the feds, you end up in the can, like big time, and that's no lie."

"What about-"

"Just a minute," she cut in. "Let me ask you something else. How much do you earn?"

I stared at her. "How much do I earn?"

"Yeah, like last year. What was your annual income? What'd you pay taxes on?"

"That's getting pretty personal, isn't it?"

"You don't have to act like that. This is strictly between us. You say and then I will. We'll trade tit for tat, as it were."

"Twenty-five thousand."

Now it was her turn to stare. "That's all? I earned twice that. No fooling. Fifty-two thousand five hundred and change."

"You got your nose broken, too," I pointed out.

"Yeah, well, you had your nose broken. I can tell by looking. I'm not criticizing. No offense," she said. "You're not a bad-looking chick, but for twenty-five thousand, you get punched in the chops same as me, am I right?"

"I wouldn't look at it quite like that."

"Don't bullshit yourself. I learned that from Lorna, too. Take my word for it. Your job is dangerous the same as mine, with only half the pay. You ought to switch, in my opinion. Not that I'm promoting my line of work. I'm just telling you what I think."

"I appreciate your concern. If I decide to change careers, I'll come to you for job counseling."

She smiled, amused at the sarcasm or what she assumed was sarcasm. "I'll tell you something else she taught me. Keep your big mouth shut. You do a guy, you don't talk about it afterward. Especially in the crowd she's running in. She slipped up once and swore she'd never do it again. Some of those guys… whoo! You're better off forgetting you ever knew 'em."

"Do you travel in those circles? The real high-class stuff?"

"Well, not all the time. Not now. When she was alive, I did now and then. Like once in a while, she'd dress me up fancy and take me with her on a big one. Me and this other girl named Rita. What a hoot. Some guys like ' em young. You shave your pubes and act like you're about ten years old. Like this one night? I made over fifteen hundred dollars. Don't ask me doing what. That's something else you don't talk about. Lester would have killed me if he found out."

"What happened to all her money when she died?" I asked.

"Beats the hell out of me. You'd have to ask her folks about that. I bet she didn't have a will. I mean, what'd she need a will for? She was young. Well, twenty-five, which is not that old. I bet she thought she had years, and it turned out she had nothing."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"You are not."

"I am too."

"Danielle, you're not."

She smiled slightly. "Okay, I'm nineteen, but I'm mature for my age."

I said, "Seventeen is probably closer, but we'll let that pass."

"You better ask more about Lorna. You're wasting your money when you ask about me."

"What was Lorna doing out at the water treatment plant? That doesn't sound like it was worth even the part-time pay."

"She had to do something. She couldn't tell her parents how she was earning her bread. They were real conservative; least her dad was. I met her mom at the funeral, and she seemed nice enough. Her old man was a butt, all the time on her case, checkin' up on her. Lorna was a wild one, and she didn't like to be controlled."

"I talked to her father earlier today, and he said Lorna didn't have many friends."

Danielle dismissed that with a toss of her head. "What does he know? Just because he never met any. Lorna liked night people. Everybody she knew came out of hiding when the sun went down. Like spiders and all those what-do-you-call-'em… nocturnal creatures. Owls and bats. You want to meet her friends, you better get used to staying out all night. What else? This is fun. I didn't realize I was so smart."

"What about the porno film? Why'd she do that?"

"Oh, same old, same old. You know how it is. Some guy came down from San Francisco. She met him one night in at the Edgewater and got to talking about that stuff. He thought she'd be dynamite, and I guess she was. At first she didn't want to do it, but then she figured, Hey, why not? She didn't get paid much, but she said she had a ball. What'd you hear about that?"

"I didn't hear about it. I saw it."

"You did not. You saw that?"

"Sure, I have a copy."