The Final Detail
Page 60

stare. He took off the headset. "You're...?"
"Thrill, yup."
Nothing was the same. Gone was the Cat Woman costume, the blond wig, the high heels, the, uh, prodigious bosom. Thrill was still female, thank heavens. Still quite attractive in her conservative navy suit with matching blouse, her hair done in a pixie style, her eyes less luminous behind round tortoiseshell glasses, her makeup now applied with a far lighter hand. Her figure was thinner, more toned, less, uh, shapely. Nothing to complain about, mind you. Just different.
"To answer your first question," she said, "when I dress like Thrill, I wear the aptly named Raquel Wonder Breast Enhancements."
Myron nodded. "That the stuff that looks like flattened Silly Putty?"
"The very. You jam them in your bra. Guess you've seen the infomercial on TV."
"Seen it? I bought the video."
Thrill laughed. Last night her laugh-not to mention her walk, her movements, her tone of voice, her choice of words-had been a double entendre. In the light of day the sound was melodic and almost childlike.
"I also strap on the aptly named Miracle Bra," she continued. "To lift it all up high."
"Any higher," Myron said, "and they could have doubled as earrings."
"Too true," she said. "The legs and ass, however, are mine. And for the record, I do not have a penis."
"So noted."
"Can I sit down?"
Myron looked at his watch. "I hate to be a pest-"
"You'll want to hear, this, believe me." She sat in the chair in front of his desk. Myron folded his arms and leaned his butt on the desk's lip. "My real name is Nancy Sinclair. I don't dress like Thrill for kicks. I'm a journalist, and I'm doing a story on Take A Guess. An insider's look at what goes on, what kind of people go there, what makes them tick. In order to get people to open up, I go undercover as Thrill."
"So you do all this for a story?"
"I do all what?"
"Dress up and, uh..." His gestures were unintelligible.
"Not that I see where it's even vaguely any of your concern, but the answer is no. 1 dress a part. I strike up conversations. I flirt. Period. I like to watch people's reaction to me."
"Oh." Then Myron cleared his throat and said, "Just, uh, out of curiosity, I'm not going to be in your story, am I? I mean, I've really never been there before and I was-"
"Relax. I recognized you as soon as you came in the door."
"You did?"
"I follow basketball. I got season tickets to the Dragons."
"I see." The Dragons were New Jersey's pro basketball team. Myron had tried a comeback with them not long ago.
"That's why I approached you."
"To see if I was into, uh, gender ambiguity?"
"Everyone else there is. Why not you?"
"But I explained to you that I was there to ask about someone."
"Clu Haid, right. Still, your reaction to me was interesting."
"I found you to be a witty conversationalist," Myron said.
"Uh-huh."
"And I also have a Julie-Newmar-as-Cat-Woman fetish."
"You'd be surprised how many people have that same fetish."
"No, I don't think I would be," Myron said. "So why are you here, Nancy?"
"Pat saw us talking last night."
"The bartender?"
"He's also one of the owners. He has shares in a couple of places in the city."
"And?"
"And after the smoke cleared from your exit, Pat pulled me aside."
"Because he saw us talking?"
"Because he saw me giving you my phone number."
"So?"
"So I'd never done that before."
"I'm flattered."
"Don't be. I'm just making a point. I come on to a ton of girls and guys and whatever in there. But I never give out a phone number."
"So why did you give it to me?"
"Because I was curious to see if you'd call. You rebuffed Thrill, so you clearly weren't there for sex. I wondered what you were up to."
Myron frowned. "That was the only reason?"
"Yes."
"Nothing about my rugged good looks and brawny body?"
"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot."
"So what did Pat want?"
"He wants me to bring you to another club tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
"How did he know I'd call?"
Again the smile. "Nancy Sinclair might not guarantee an immediate phone call..."
"But Thrill does?"
"Bosoms are empowerment. And if you didn't, he told me I could look up your business number in the phone book."
"Which is what you did."
"Yes. He also promised me you wouldn't be hurt."
"How comforting. And your interest in all this?"
"Isn't it obvious? A story. The Clu Haid murder is huge news. Now you're tying this week's murder-of-the-century to a kinky New York nightclub."
"I don't think I can help you."
"Cow dooky."
"Cowdooky?"
She shrugged.
"What else did Pat say to you?"