G is for Gumshoe Read Online Free PDF Page A

what you see.”
    I love this kind of quiz. It reminds me of that game we used to play at birthday parties in elementary school where somebody’s mom would present a tray of odds and ends, which we got to look at for one minute and then recite back from memory. It’s the only kind of party game I ever won. I surveyed her desk. Same old mess as far as I could see. Files everywhere, insurance manuals, correspondence piled up. Two empty Coke bottles . . . “No cigarette butts,” I said. “Where’s the ashtray?”
    â€œI quit.”
    â€œI don’t believe it. When?”
    â€œYesterday. I woke up feeling punk, coughing my lungs out. I was out of cigarettes, so there I am on my hands and knees, picking through the trash for a butt big enough to light. Of course I can’t find one. I know I’m going to have to throw some clothes on, grab my car keys, and whip down to the corner before I can even have my first Coke. And I thought, to hell with it. I’ve had it. I’m not going to do this to myself anymore. So I quit. That was thirty-one hours ago.”
    â€œVera, that’s great. I’m really proud of you.”
    â€œThanks. It feels good. I keep wishing I could have a cigarette to celebrate. Stick around. You can watch me hyperventilate every seven minutes when the urge comes up. What are you up to?”
    â€œI’m on my way home,” I said. “I just stopped by to say hi. I’ll be gone tomorrow and we’d talked about having lunch.”
    â€œShoot, too bad. I was looking forward to it. I was going to fix you up.”
    â€œFix me up? Like a blind date?” This news was about as thrilling to me as the notion of periodontal work.
    â€œDon’t use that tone, kiddo. This guy’s perfect for you.”
    â€œI’m afraid to ask you what that means,” I said.
    â€œIt means he isn’t married like
someone
I could name.” Her reference was to Jonah Robb, whose on-again, off-again marriage had been a source of conflict. I’d been involved with him intermittently since the previous fall, but the high had long since worn off.
    â€œThere’s nothing wrong with that relationship,” I said.
    â€œOf course there is,” she snapped. “He’s never there when you need him. He’s always off with what’s-her-face at some counseling session.”
    â€œWell, that’s true enough.” Jonah and Camilla seemed to move from therapist to therapist, switching every time they got close to a resolution of any kind; “conflict habituated,” I think it’s called. They’d been together since seventh grade and were apparently addicted to the dark side of love.
    â€œHe’s never going to leave her,” Vera said.
    â€œThat’s probably true, too, but who gives a shit?”
    â€œYou do and you know it.”
    â€œNo, I don’t,” I said. “I’ll tell you the truth. I really don’t have room in my life for much more than I’ve got. I don’t want a big, hot love affair. Jonah’s a good friend and he comes through for me often enough . . .”
    â€œBoy, are you out of touch.”
    â€œI don’t want your rejects, Vera. That’s the point.”
    â€œThis is not a reject. It’s more like a referral.”
    â€œYou want to make a sales pitch? I can tell you want to make a sales pitch. Go ahead. Fill me in. I can hardly wait.”
    â€œHe’s perfect.”
    â€œ ‘Perfect.’ Got it,” I said, pretending to take notes. “Very nice. What else?”
    â€œExcept for one thing.”
    â€œAh.”
    â€œI’m being honest about this,” she replied righteously. “If he was totally perfect, I’d keep him for myself.”
    â€œWhat’s the catch?”
    â€œDon’t rush me. I’ll get to that. Just let me tell you his good points first.”
    I glanced at my watch.