sound of Gale's voice, a snotty prep school whine.
Angry but composed, Janek taxied to a block on West Ninety-eighth between Broadway and West End. He found Gale's building easily enough, a subdivided gray stone town house. He rang the buzzer to be sure Gale wasn't in, then walked over to the garage across the street. Yes, indeed, the night manager said, he knew young Mr. Gale. He kept his car there, but it wasn't there now. He'd taken it out earlier that evening. Janek tipped him in return for permission to wait in the office until young Mr. Gale returned. Then he settled back into a beaten-up swivel chair and tried to get some sleep.
Two hours later he felt a light touch on his shoulder. The manager, hovering, gestured toward the garage drive. A well-polished red Porsche was angled in the entrance, and a lean young male, dressed in a trench coat, was making his way across the street.
"Thanks," Janek whispered, then hurried out. He reached the vestibule of the town house just as Gale was unlocking the inner hallway door.
"Greg?"
Gale turned. He had light, wavy hair verging on blond and the smooth, symmetrical features of a secondary lead in a soap opera. The only striking thing about him was his pallor; he looked like the kind of person who ventured out only at night.
Janek flashed his shield.
"This must be about Jess."
Janek nodded. "Got time to talk?"
Gale glanced around. He seemed reluctant. Janek tried to make himself vulnerable. "Been waiting quite a while, Greg. Pretty cold out there." He rubbed his hands together as he spoke.
Gale nodded."Well, okay. Shall we talk down here?"
" Up to you." Janek rubbed his hands again to emphasize the chill.
The young man shrugged. "Let's go upstairs." He grinned. "I gotta take a leak."
He was poised and he was handsome and the thought of Jess in his arms filled Janek with disgust. But he played along and smiled and followed Gale up the stairs, enjoying the thought of how the little jerk was shortly going to be sorry he'd invited him into his place.
Inside the apartment Gale excused himself, leaving Janek alone to look around. It seemed pretty lush for a college student, but then so did a red Porsche. There was black leather upholstered furniture, a sleek stereo, a top-grade TV with matching VCR, big collections of CD discs and videotapes, a shelf of mystery novels, and, most striking, a large photograph hanging over the fireplace. Beautifully framed, it showed a muscular naked black male posed on one knee before a standing young woman. Dressed in white equestrian garb, she peered down at the black with a disdainful, lascivious smile.
When Gale reappeared, Janek gestured toward the picture. "Interesting," he said.
Gale showed his teeth. "Like that, do you?"
"I didn't say I liked it. I said it was interesting."
"I took it."
"You're a photographer?"
" I fool around with it a little, yeah." Though the kid obviously wanted to sound self-deprecating, he came off as shallow and arrogant.
"Ever take any pictures of Jess?"
Gale ran his tongue across his lips. "A few. Want to see them?"
If they were anything like the kinky picture over the fireplace, Janek didn't think he did. He stared at Gale.
"I'll ask the questions, Greg. You'll answer them. Let's start off easy. What did you do to her in the park?"
" What?"
"You heard me."
"Hey! Are you for real? I want you out of here. Now!"
When Janek smiled, Gale looked confused. A slight vibrato in his upper lip showed that he was feeling fear.
"I know who you are. You're the detective she was always talking about."
Janek offered no response.
"Okay," Gale said, quickly adjusting his manner to eager-to-please, "you want answers. I don't know anything about the park. I didn't lay eyes on her the last seven weeks. We quarreled, and she kicked me out of her life. Naturally I feel real bad about what happened, but I don't know anything about it. That's all I'm going to say."
Real badâshit! "Not good enough, Greggy
Angry but composed, Janek taxied to a block on West Ninety-eighth between Broadway and West End. He found Gale's building easily enough, a subdivided gray stone town house. He rang the buzzer to be sure Gale wasn't in, then walked over to the garage across the street. Yes, indeed, the night manager said, he knew young Mr. Gale. He kept his car there, but it wasn't there now. He'd taken it out earlier that evening. Janek tipped him in return for permission to wait in the office until young Mr. Gale returned. Then he settled back into a beaten-up swivel chair and tried to get some sleep.
Two hours later he felt a light touch on his shoulder. The manager, hovering, gestured toward the garage drive. A well-polished red Porsche was angled in the entrance, and a lean young male, dressed in a trench coat, was making his way across the street.
"Thanks," Janek whispered, then hurried out. He reached the vestibule of the town house just as Gale was unlocking the inner hallway door.
"Greg?"
Gale turned. He had light, wavy hair verging on blond and the smooth, symmetrical features of a secondary lead in a soap opera. The only striking thing about him was his pallor; he looked like the kind of person who ventured out only at night.
Janek flashed his shield.
"This must be about Jess."
Janek nodded. "Got time to talk?"
Gale glanced around. He seemed reluctant. Janek tried to make himself vulnerable. "Been waiting quite a while, Greg. Pretty cold out there." He rubbed his hands together as he spoke.
Gale nodded."Well, okay. Shall we talk down here?"
" Up to you." Janek rubbed his hands again to emphasize the chill.
The young man shrugged. "Let's go upstairs." He grinned. "I gotta take a leak."
He was poised and he was handsome and the thought of Jess in his arms filled Janek with disgust. But he played along and smiled and followed Gale up the stairs, enjoying the thought of how the little jerk was shortly going to be sorry he'd invited him into his place.
Inside the apartment Gale excused himself, leaving Janek alone to look around. It seemed pretty lush for a college student, but then so did a red Porsche. There was black leather upholstered furniture, a sleek stereo, a top-grade TV with matching VCR, big collections of CD discs and videotapes, a shelf of mystery novels, and, most striking, a large photograph hanging over the fireplace. Beautifully framed, it showed a muscular naked black male posed on one knee before a standing young woman. Dressed in white equestrian garb, she peered down at the black with a disdainful, lascivious smile.
When Gale reappeared, Janek gestured toward the picture. "Interesting," he said.
Gale showed his teeth. "Like that, do you?"
"I didn't say I liked it. I said it was interesting."
"I took it."
"You're a photographer?"
" I fool around with it a little, yeah." Though the kid obviously wanted to sound self-deprecating, he came off as shallow and arrogant.
"Ever take any pictures of Jess?"
Gale ran his tongue across his lips. "A few. Want to see them?"
If they were anything like the kinky picture over the fireplace, Janek didn't think he did. He stared at Gale.
"I'll ask the questions, Greg. You'll answer them. Let's start off easy. What did you do to her in the park?"
" What?"
"You heard me."
"Hey! Are you for real? I want you out of here. Now!"
When Janek smiled, Gale looked confused. A slight vibrato in his upper lip showed that he was feeling fear.
"I know who you are. You're the detective she was always talking about."
Janek offered no response.
"Okay," Gale said, quickly adjusting his manner to eager-to-please, "you want answers. I don't know anything about the park. I didn't lay eyes on her the last seven weeks. We quarreled, and she kicked me out of her life. Naturally I feel real bad about what happened, but I don't know anything about it. That's all I'm going to say."
Real badâshit! "Not good enough, Greggy
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