“Call me Candi, baby, and thank you, I have.” Candace looked around the room, preening like a proud parent. “Didn’t start off this way, that’s for sure. Used to have myself a studio and three roommates—you heard me right—way the hell uptown. Took the CC down to Port Authority and walked to Broadway. Can you believe that? But this was in the ’70s when I was young and beautiful and stupid.” She flashed a predatory grin. “Now I’m just young and beautiful.”
Larkin managed to hold back an amused smile at the last second. “I read some of your interviews hosted by the Golden Oral.”
Her eyes seemed to brighten. “Did you? And what did you think?”
“I’d like to ask about your affiliation with Vinny Costa.” Larkin watched the corners of Candace’s lips pull downward in a typical indicator of sadness, but the rest of the face remained disturbingly neutral. Until he realized: Botox.
“Vinny,” Candace said on a long exhale. She plucked at the feather trim of her robe. “Smut-peddler extraordinaire. He was a bit like the foul-mouthed uncle you only saw at the family get-together once a year.Notthat uncle you weren’t supposed to be around alone. I never heard any girl complain about Vinny testing the merchandise, if you get me.”
“When did you start working at the Dirty Dollhouse,” Larkin asked.
“1977,” Candace said promptly.
Doyle took out his notepad and pen.
“I was seventeen. Dropped out of high school, moved into that studio with a couple of my girlfriends, bought a fake ID in Times Square, and got a job at the Dollhouse.” She shifted a little, as if adjusting her pose for a photoshoot. “Let me be straight with you boys. I wanted to be there. I wanted to be a porno queen. I sawDeep Throata year or two earlier and was absolutelymesmerized.” She emphasized the last word with both hands. “A lot of those girls wound up working the peep shows or clubs or streets because they didn’t have a choice or fell in with the wrong guys. I had a goal, a plan, and Vinny helped get my name out there. In less than two years, I’d gone from quarters at the peep show to starring inMemoirs of Miss Jane.”
“That was your ’79 debut,” Larkin stated.
“Are you a fan?” Candace asked flirtatiously.
“I haven’t watched it, no.”
“You should. You’d hardly know forty years have passed—well, except for my co-star’s mustache. Oh, and his balls.” Candace rolled her eyes. “Sasquatch with a set of testicles. Adult film stars are more mindful of landscaping these days.”
Larkin briefly met Doyle’s gaze.
Doyle held his notepad up for Larkin to see. “Don’t worry, I wrote that down.”
Candace giggled and pointed at them with a manicured hand. “You two must be the cutest cops I’ve ever dealt with.” She sat up, set her feet on the floor, and leaned forward. “And I’ve known a badge or two in my time.”
“Yes, you’ve quite the arrest record,” Larkin clarified.
Candace’s smile grew dangerous. Man-eater. That was the word for women like her. “It was a different time back then. You know what I think it is? Younger men are always so eager. To please, to prove themselves… you’re like puppies.”
“Ms. Ward,” Larkin said.
Candace pouted playfully before lounging on the daybed again. “You’re no fun, Detective.”
“When you were employed at the Dollhouse,” Larkin continued, “did you know a man named Sal Costa.”
“Lord,” Candace grumbled, her attitude taking a one-eighty spin. “Sal. What a pig.”
“What was Mr. Costa’s connection to the establishment.”
“Sal was Vinny’s nephew. Vinny wasn’t married, didn’t have kids—that he knew of, anyway—and his brother Joey had like five daughters and then Sal. Vinny spoiled him rotten. Probably the only fault the man had.”
“Why didn’t you like Sal?” Doyle spoke up.
“Everything Vinny was, Sal was the opposite,” Candace clarified. “He paid himself from the register, felt up girls, fucked them in any one of the private closets and then didn’t pay because he ‘worked there.’ He was a pimp too. A shitty one, but still. Got more than a few of those girls hooked on drugs—”
Larkin interrupted and asked, “Heroin.”
Doyle glanced sideways at him.
“Sure,” Candace answered.
“Sal Costa was familiar with needles,” Larkin reiterated.
