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She shook her head in a loose, inebriated way. “No, sir, directive…uh…I mean, detective.”
Pro leaned close. “Have you been in touch with Max Marvell in the last forty-eight hours?”
“Max?” she said and tried to focus. “Why would Max try to contact me?” She considered it for a moment, then began to laugh. “Maybe he wants to collect on that blow job.”
She fell into a fit of giggles, delighted in her drunken wit.
Pro shook her head in disgust and murmured to her partner, “This is a waste of time.”
With a nod, Chu spoke loudly, “Miss Gray, thank you for your hospitality. I am leaving my card.” He took a card from his wallet and placed it on the table. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call.”
She rose unsteadily and headed for the door. “Okay, thanks for comin’ by.” She opened it wide, and the detectives stepped out. “I’m gonna take a little nap.”
“That might be a good idea,” Chu said as the door closed.
“What a freakin’ waste of time,” Pro said. “Man, the mouth on her.”
“She’ll pay for it tomorrow I’ll bet,” Chu said as they walked out to the street.
Back in the apartment, Adrian listened at the intercom as the detectives went down the stairs, then released the button and stood on her feet easily.
She pushed her hair out of her face and walked over to the large bookcase and knocked on it twice. There was the sound of a release mechanism, and the bookcase opened up to reveal the small hidden room.
Max Marvell stepped out.
“They’re gone,” she told him, stone-cold sober. “And I gotta wash the stink of the scotch off me.”
“Thank you, Adrianna,” Max said and took her hands. “You were brilliant, an epic performance. I believed you were blotto myself.”
“You taught me that it’s all in the misdirection,” she said, and reached up to unclip the unruly hairpiece from her well-coifed hair. “Give them one thing to focus on and they won’t look for another.”
“I must say, I’ve never seen it done better.”
“Thank you, sir. I hope you didn’t mind the jabs aimed at you.”
“Perfect choice. When you mentioned offering oral sex to me, I almost expected Prophecy’s head to explode.”
“She’s a looker, your kid,” Adrian said, as she poured out her soda with no alcohol and began to tidy up the room, designed to reinforce her drunken performance. “I’m always amazed that you had time to have a kid. I never was able to get that together.”
Max paused and looked at the floor, dejected. “I was a terrible father…”
“Oh, you’re just saying that—”
“No, I mean it. I wasn’t there for her, and I should have been. But I guess I can only move forward from where I am.”
“I’ll get you a coffee and you can head out. Best to make sure they aren’t scouring the neighborhood before you go.”
Max stood in the living room alone, then turned and closed the open bookcase.
888
Michael Mystique’s address was down on 51st Street, not a long drive from 73rd Street.
“So, apparently, this guy legally changed his name to Mystique,” Chu offered in an attempt to get Pro to stop brooding.
“That horrible woman,” Pro muttered, and then changed her voice to imitate her. “‘I offered him a blow job, but he turned me down.’”
“Pretty good impression.”
