return. We go to the same place
every year. I just assumed she'd show up.”
“Where's that?”
“Dylan's Brazen Head. It's a pub on First Avenue, near her
apartment.”
I glanced at a photo of the two sisters together, both smiling
for the camera. Behind them was the mirrored wall of a bar, lined
with bottles of booze. The Brazen Head had been in business for
more than twenty years, a magnet for prep school kids from the
Upper East Side because of the affable owner's willingness to turn
a blind eye to underage drinkers. It was named for the oldest pub
in Dublin, which dated back-according to legend-eight hundred
years.
“Did you go?” I asked.
“Yes. I went early, at six, and waited there until ten
o'clock.”
“Tell Ms. Cooper why Amber picked Dylan's.”
Janet looked at me sideways before she answered. “Jim Dylan and
Amber-well, she's been, I guess you'd say, dating him for three
years.”
“What she means is that Jim Dylan has a wife and six kids, three
of 'em still at home in the nest,” Mike said. “So I wouldn't
exactly call it 'dating.' ”
“Did you ask Mr. Dylan about your sister?”
“He told me he hadn't seen her since May. Jim didn't want to
talk about it there. One of his sons was tending bar.”
“Is there anything else about your sister that you think puts
her in harm's way?”
“Like I told you,” Janet said again. “Amber's quirky. I'm afraid
this stuff might end up in the newspapers. I just want to protect
her if I can.”
“What do you mean?”
“My sister supplemented her income with another job, Ms.
Cooper,” Janet said, blowing her nose again. “She tried to talk me
into the same thing a couple of years ago, but I thought it was
disgusting. It broke my heart to think of what she was doing.”
“What kind of job?”
“A dating service.”
I wanted to find a tasteful way to get Janet where she was
going. “An escort?”
Mike lifted his blazer from the back of the chair, slipped his
finger under the collar, and draped it over his shoulder as he
stepped behind me.
“I told her how dangerous her lifestyle was, and nothing I said
could get her to stop.” Janet rested her head in her hands and
started crying again. “Doesn't matter what you called her, she
laughed it off like it was a compliment. An escort, a prostitute, a
whore, a hooker.”
Mike leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I'm thinking she's a
dead hooker now.
FOUR
Iwalked Janet Bristol to the rest room to wash her face, then
returned to wait for her in my office
You've got to give me a hand tonight,“ Mike said. ”What am I
missing?" I looked from him to Mercer.
“We're going to get a hit at the morgue,” Mike said. "I can
taste it.
I just look at that beauty mark on the side of this broad's
neck and picture the one in the identical place on her sister. A
patch of skin untouched by the bugs. We got hold of Amber's dentist
an hour ago-she had sent Janet to him for an abscess last year.
He's faxing over her records to Dr. Kestenbaum. “And if it's a
match?”
“Janet tells me that if we're not the first ones to get hold of
Amber's little black book, this case will rocket from oblivion to
the headlines. Good morning, Idaho. This is your wake-up call.”
“Does she know her sister's clientele?” Mercer's six-foot-six
frame towered over Mike, and his ebony face was sweating
heavily.
“Not specific guys, but according to Amber's stories, they're
what the newspapers refer to as boldface names. Lawyers,
businessmen, politicians. I want you to come uptown with us, Alex,
if Janet makes an ID,” Mike said. “You're the one who's going to
have to run interference with Battaglia if this investigation takes
a detour.”
“Don't be luring Coop away from my case,” Mercer said.
“You told me this trial would be over in two days.”
“It should be,” I said. The courtroom circus created by Floyd
Warren's defense attorney had prolonged the
J. S. Cooper, Helen Cooper