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?“You should’ve heard what she called Randall on their first meeting.”
?“How do you know her?” Mark wondered.
?“I met her at a writing class I taught at the New School years ago. She’s a gifted technician, but she wasn’t good at putting her results into the written word. I helped her express herself and edited a few of her papers. We’ve been friends ever since.”
?Sylvia brought a tray that contained the tools wrapped in plastic and a box of latex gloves.
?“This will do nicely,” I responded. “Do you have a camera, in case we need to document?”
?“Just use your phone.”
?“That works,” I agreed, and Sylvia gave a nod and was off again.
?“How old is she?” Mark asked.
?I thought about it. “Twenty-seven—no, eight. Why, do you like them young?”
? Mark’s back stiffened. “Actually, I've never been with anyone much younger than myself.” He gazed deep into my eyes, and I got that feeling of being caressed again. “How old are you?”
?“You first.” I gave a nervous laugh.
?“Okay,” Mark replied timidly. “I’m fifty-two.”
?I had thought he was younger. “You look good.”
?“How nice. I’ve reached the you-look-good-for-your-age phase of my life,” Mark joked, as I took the tools out of the tray and put the pipe in it. He went on. “Okay, so I fessed up. How about you?”
?“Thirty-four,” I admitted in a low undertone. I slipped gloves on, pulled out my phone, and began to snap photos of the pipe, not looking at Mark.
?Eighteen years my senior. He was eighteen when I was born. The idea didn’t compute with the lusty thoughts I’d been having for him the last few days.
?Why was it important? After all, at this point we were nothing more than friends, and according to the police, co-conspirators.
?But the way he made me feel! And those kisses. Just the kisses had been mind-blowing. Was he an exceptional kisser, or had it just been so
long for me I couldn’t tell anymore?
?I focused on the pipe, turned it over, and photographed the red mark. Then I took snaps of it on one side, then flipped it to the other side.
?“How’s it going?” Sylvia said as she walked over.
?“Good, I guess,” Mark told her as he watched me.
?Sylvia pointed at a large machine on the other side of the room. “I’ll be over there if you need me.”
?“I can’t thank you enough, Sylvia,” I told her.
?“Glad to help. I assume you’ll explain the entire story once you have the answer to your problem?”
?“You’ll be the first to know.” I tore open a plastic bag and extracted the forceps. It had two circles of metal, which I held with my thumb and middle finger, and a bent nose like a pair of needle-nosed pliers.
?Clamped to our workbench was a large, circular magnifier lamp on an adjustable arm. I moved it into position over the tray and turned on the light. It flickered twice, and then shone a cold, fluorescent light upon the contents of the tray.
?I picked up the pipe and examined it through the magnifying lens. “This is a lot better than the glass I carry in my purse.”
?“See anything?” Mark asked.
?I pulled the shank loose from the stem and looked into both holes carefully.
