We set out for the outlets1 at nine a.m.
Taking the Sevillebecause “you’ve got leather seats.”
Beautiful day, sixty-five, sunny—if you had nothing on your mind you couldpretend California was Eden.
Milo said, “Let’s do the scenic3 route.”
That meant Sunset to the coast highway and north through Malibu. When I approached Kanan Dume Road, I lifted my foot fromthe gas pedal.
“Keep going.” Slouching, but his eyes had fixed5 on the odometer. Imaginingthe trip from a killer’s perspective.
At Mulholland Highwaywe crossed over the Ventura County line. Sped pastthe beach house I’d rented with Robin7 years ago. The 8:15 call I’d walked outon last night had been from her. No message other than to phone. I’d tried. Nothome.
The road compressed to two lanes and continued through miles ofcliff-bordered state parkland and oceanfront campgrounds. At Sycamore Creek,the hills were pillowed by wet-year vegetation. Lupine and poppies and cactusplayed on the land-side. To the west was crashing Pacific and milkshakebreakers. I spotted8 dolphins leaping twenty yards offshore9.
“Glorious.”
Milo said, “All that green stuff, when thefires take hold it’s a barbecue. Remember a few years ago when this wascharcoal?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
An eastward10 turn on Las Posas Road took us through miles of vegetable fields.Green leafy rows in some of the acreage, the rest was brown and flat anddormant. U-pick sheds and produce stands were shuttered for the off season.Combines and other metal monsters perched out past the furrows11, awaiting thesignal to chew and churn and inseminate. At Camarillo’s western edge, a southerly cruiseon Factory Stores Drive led us to a peach-pink village of commerce.
A hundred twenty stores divided into north and south sections. Barneys NewYork occupied the western tip of the southern wing, a compact, well-lit space,attractively laid out, staffed well, nearly empty.
We’d walked three steps when a spike-haired young man in all black came upto us. “Can I help you?” He had sunken cheeks and mascaraed eyes, wore acologne full of citrus. The platinum12 soul patch under his lip right-angled witheach syllable13, like a tiny diving board.
Milo said, “You carry Stefano Ricci ties?The five-hundred-buck deals with the real gold thread?”
“No, sir, I’m afraid we—”
“Just kidding, friend.” Fingering the skinny, wrinkled polyester thing thathung down his paunch.
The young man was still working on a smile when Miloflashed the badge. Off to one side a pair of Persian saleswomen looked us overand spoke14 in low tones.
“Police?”
“We’re here about a theft that occurred four days ago. A customer got herpurse stolen.”
“Sure. Ms. Wasserman.”
“She’s a regular?”
“Every month like clockwork. I find her purse for her all the time. Thistime I guess it really did get stolen.”
“Absentminded lady?”
“I’ll say,” said the young man. “They’re beautiful pieces, you’d thinkshe’d…I don’t want to gossip, she’s a nice lady. This time it was a snakeskinBadge-Mish. She’s got Missoni and Cavallo, vintage Judith Leiber day bags,Hermès, Chanel.”
“You’d think,” said Milo.
“I’m not putting her down, she’s a really nice person. Perfect size zero andshe tries to tip the staff even though it’s not allowed. Did you find it?”
“Not yet. Those other times, where did she leave them, Mr….”
“Topher Lembell. I’m a designer soI’m always noticing details. The Badge was sweet. Anaconda, thisyou-better-notice-me pattern, the dye job was so good you could almost think asnake could really be mauve—”
“Where’s Ms. Wasserman tend to leave her purses?”
“The dressing15 room. That’s where I always find them. You know, under a pileof clothes? This time she claimed she last saw it over there.” Pointing to adisplay counter in the middle of the store. Shiny things arrayed neatly16 underglass. Nearby was a display of last season’s men’s linen17 suits in earth tones,canvas shoes, straw hats, fifty-dollar T-shirts.
Milo said, “You doubt that.”
“I guess she’d know,” said Topher Lembell. “Though if she left it out in theopen, you’d think someone would’ve noticed, what with it being so gorgeous. Andeveryone knowing about Ms. Wasserman’s forgetfulness.”
“Maybe someone did,” said Milo.
“I meant us, Officer. We had a full staff that day because it was real busy,lots of stock came in, including stuff that didn’t move at the warehouse18 saleand was deep-deep-discounted. The company advertised, plus preferred customersget e-mails.”
“Like Ms. Wasserman.”
“She’s definitely preferred.”
“A busy day could make it harder to notice things,” said Milo.
“You’d think so but on super-heavy days we’re super-careful. So, actually,theft rates go down. It’s the medium days that are worse, enough people sowe’re outnumbered, you turn your back and someone’s boosted something.”
“Still, Ms. Wasserman’s purse did get stolen.”
Topher Lembell pouted19. “No one’s perfect. My bet’s still on the dressingroom. She was in and out all morning, trying on stuff, tossing it on the floor.When she’s in that mode she can create a real mess—don’t tell her I said that,okay? I’m one of her favorites. It’s like she uses me for a personal shopper.”
“Sealed lips,” said Milo. “Now would you dome6 a favor and look at these photos and tell me if any of these people were inthe store that day?”
“Suspects?” said Topher Lembell. “This is cool. Can I tell my friends aboutbeing part of an investigation20 or is it a big top-secret deal?”
“Tell anyone you want. Is everyone here who was working that day?”
“We had five more people, including one of their friends from the Valley.”Eyeing the Persian women. “The others were Larissa, Christy, Andy, and Mo. They all go tocollege, come in weekends and on heavy days. Larissa and Christy are due in topick up their check, I could call and see if they can come earlier. And maybe Ican get Mo and Andy on the phone, they’re roomies.”
“Thanks for the help,” said Milo.
“Sure, let’s see those suspects. Like I said, I’ve got a great eye fordetail.”
As Milo produced the photos, Topher Lembellstudied the wrinkled necktie and the wash-and-wear shirt beneath it. “By theway, we’ve still got some good deals on last season’s goods. Lots of loose,comfy stuff.”
Milo smiled and showed him DMV head-shotsof Nora Dowd and Dylan Meserve.
“He’s younger and cuter than her.”
The snaps of Cathy and Andy Gaidelas evoked21, “Sorry, no. These two look kindof Wisconsin—I grew up in Kenosha. Are they really criminals?”
“How about this one?”
Lembell studied Reynold Peaty’s arrest shot and stuck out his tongue. “Ugh.The moment he stepped inside, we’d be on the lookout22. Uh-uh.”
Milo said, “On a busy day, despite theextra staff, couldn’t someone blend in with the crowd?”
“If it was me in charge, never. My eyes are like lasers. On the other hand,some people…” Another glance at the saleswomen, now idling silently near a rackof designer dresses.
One of them caught Milo’s eye and wavedtentatively.
He said, “Let’s see what your colleagues have to say. And if you could makethose calls to the temps right now, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’m on it,” said Topher Lembell, following along as we crossed the room.“By the way, I do custom couture. Men’s suits, jackets, pants, made to precisemeasure, all I charge is five percent over the cost of fabric23, and I’ve gotsurplus rolls from Dormeuil and Holland & Sherry, some really cool Super100’s. If you’re a wee bit hard to fit—”
“I’m harder after a big meal,” said Milo.
“No prob, I can create an expandable waistband with tons of stretch.”
“Hmm,” said Milo. “Let me think aboutit…hello, ladies.”
Forty minutes later, we were parked near the food court at the northern edgeof the complex drinking iced tea from twenty-ounce cups.
Milo removed his straw, bent24 it intosegments, created a plastic tapeworm, pulled it tight.
His mood was low. No I.D.s on any of the photos by the staff, including thehistrionic Larissa and Christy who arrived giggling25 and continued to view theprocess as hilarious26. Roommates Andy and Mo were interviewed by phone in Goleta. Same for FahrizaNourmand of Westlake Village. No one recalledanyone lurking27 near Angeline Wasserman’s person or purse.
No suspicious characters that day, though someone had boosted a package ofmen’s briefs.
Topher Lembell gave up Angeline Wasserman’s phone number, scrawling28 on theback of his own baby-blue business card.
“Call me any time for a fitting but don’t tell anyone here about it.Technically29, I’m not allowed to do my own thing on company time but I don’tthink God really cares, do you?”
Now, Milo copied Wasserman’s number intohis pad, crumpled30 the card, and tossed it in my ashtray31.
I said, “No interest in custom couture?”
“For that I call Omar the Tentmaker.”
“How about Stefano Ricci? Five hundred bucks32 for a tie’s a bargain.”
“Rick,” he said. “His cravats33 cost more than my suits. When I’m feelingvindictive, I use it against him.”
He played with the straw, tried to rip the plastic, failed, and jammed itback through the lid of his drink. “Just before I came to your place, I got anI.D. on the phone booth used for the whispering crap. Let’s have a look, it ain’texactly a trek34.”
Gas station at Las Posas and Ventura,a five-minute drive.
Trucks and cars lined up at the pumps, hungry motorists streamed in and outof an adjacent Stop & Shop. The booth was off to the side, near thebathrooms. No police tape or indication anyone had dusted for prints.
I remarked on that and he said, “Ventura PD came by at six a.m., lifted awhole bunch of latents. Even with AFIS it’ll be a while before that’suntangled.”
We went into the food store where he showed the photos to the clerks. Headshakes, apathy35. Back outside, he said, “Any ideas?”
“Whoever stole the purse was careful enough to use the cell for the hang-upsthen switch to the pay phone for the whispering. Or, we’re talking two peopleworking as a team. Either way, the caller stuck around in Camarillo, so how about checking over there?”I pointed36 across Venturato a mass of other eateries.
“Sure, why not.”
We made it through six restaurants before he said, “Enough. Maybe theabsentminded Ms. Wasserman will recognize someone.”
“You didn’t show any shots of Billy Dowd.”
“Couldn’t come up with any,” he said. “Didn’t figure it mattered ’cause Idon’t see Billy making his way out here by himself.”
“Even if he managed to, the Barneys staff would’ve noticed him.”
“Not cool enough. Just like junior high.”
“Why’d you bother showing Peaty’s picture? He didn’t call Vasquez and taghimself as dangerous.”
“I wanted to see if he’s ever been out here. Looks like none of our partiesof interest have been.”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “Angeline Wasserman is here every month, ‘likeclockwork.’ The staff knew her as absentminded so maybe someone else did.Someone stylish37 enough to blend in, like Dylan Meserve.”
“No one recognized his picture, Alex.”
“Maybe he knows something about special effects.”
“He shops in disguise?”
“A performance,” I said. “That could be the whole point.”
I took the 101 back to the city, making good time as Milocalled in for messages. He had to introduce himself three times to whoeveranswered at the West L.A. station, hung upcursing.
“New receptionist?”
“Idiot nephew of a city councilman, still doesn’t know who I am. For thelast three days I’ve gotten no messages, which is fine, except when I’mactually trying to solve a case. Turns out all my slips ended up in someoneelse’s box—a D named Sterlingwho’s out on vacation. Luckily it was all junk.”
He punched Angeline Wasserman’s number. Barely had time to recite his namebefore he was listening nonstop. Finally, he broke through and set up anappointment to meet in an hour.
“Design Center, she’s at a rug place, doing a‘high-level multi-level Wilshire Corridor condo.’ The day she got ripped offshe thinks some guy was checking her out in the outlet2 parking lot.”
“Who?”
“All I got was a guy in an SUV, she said she’d work on her recollection.Wanna hypnotize her?” He laughed. “She sounded excited.”
“Just like Topher the designer. You didn’t know you were in a glamprofession.”
He showed his teeth to the rearview mirror, scraped an incisor. “Ready formy close-up, Mr. DeMille. Time to scare small children and household pets.”
Manoosian Oriental Carpets was a cavernous space on the ground floor of the Design Center’sBlue Building, crammed38 with hundreds ofhand-loomed treasures and smelling of dust and brown paper.
Angeline Wasserman stood in the center of the gallery’s main room,red-haired, cheerfully anorexic, facially tucked so many times her eyes hadmigrated, fishlike, toward the sides of her head. Lime-green shantung pants fither stick legs like Saran around chicken bones. Her orange cashmere jacketwould’ve flared39 if she had hips40. Bouncing like a Slinky toy among hemp-boundrolls of rugs, she smiled orders at two young Hispanic guys unfurling awaist-high stack of 20 x 20 Sarouks.
As we approached her, she sang out, “I’ll do it!” and launched herself atthe rugs. Tossing back dense41 flaps of woven wool, she passed instantaneousjudgment on each. “No. No. Definitely no. Maybe. No. No. No on that one,too—we’ve got to do better, Darius.”
The stocky, bearded fellow she addressed said, “How about some Kashans, Ms.W?”
“If they’re better than these.”
Darius waved to the young guys and they left.
Angeline Wasserman noticed us, inspected a few more piles, finished, andpatted her hair and said, “Hello, police people.”
Milo thanked her for cooperating, showedher the photos.
Her index finger tapped. “No. No. No. No. No. So, tell me, how come LAPD’s involvedwhen it happened in Ventura?”
“It might be related to an L.A.crime, ma’am.”
Wasserman’s piscine eyes glowed. “Some sort of big-time crime ring?Figures.”
“Why’s that?”
“Someone who recognizes a Badgley Mischka is clearly a pro4.” She waved awaythe photos. “Think you’ll ever find my little beauty?”
“Hard to say.”
“In other words, no. Okay, that’s life, it was a year old, anyway. Butshould a miracle come down from above, the one thing I ask is that you onlyreturn it if it’s in perfect shape. If it’s not, just donate it to some policecharity and let me know so I can write it off. Here today, gone tomorrow,right, Lieutenant42?”
“Good attitude, ma’am.”
“My husband thinks I’m pathologically insouciant43, but guess who looksforward to getting up in the morning and who doesn’t? Anyway, there wasn’t muchcash in there, maybe eight, nine hundred dollars and I put a stop on the magicplastic.”
“Had anyone tried to use the cards?”
“Thank God, no. My AmEx Black’s limitless. The phone’s no big deal, either,it was time for an upgrade. Now, let me tell you about that guy who waschecking me out. He was already there when I pulled into the lot, so he wasn’tstalking me or anything like that. What probably happened is he was casing thelot for a pigeon—that’s the right term, isn’t it?—and he saw me as a perfectlittle dove.”
“Because of the purse.”
“The purse, my clothes, my demeanor44.” Bony hands traversed bony flanks. “Iwas dolled out, guys. Even when hunting le grande bargainne, I refuse to dressdown.”
“How was this person checking you out?” said Milo.
“Looking at me. Right through his car window.”
“His window was rolled up?”
“All the way. And it was tinted45, so I couldn’t get a good look. But I’m surehe had his eye on me.” Curled lashes46 danced. “I’m not flattering myself,Lieutenant. Believe me, he was looking.”
“What do you remember about him?”
“Caucasian. I couldn’t make out details but the way he was turned I had afull view of his face.” A red-nailed finger touched a collagen lip. “ByCaucasian, I mean light skinned. I suppose he could’ve been a pale Latino orsome kind of Asian. Not black, that I can tell you for sure.”
“He stayed in the car the whole time?”
“And continued to watch me. I just know he was following me with his eyes.”
“Was the engine idling?”
“Hmm…no, I don’t think so…no, definitely not.”
“Everything you saw was through the glass.”
“Yes, but it wasn’t just what I saw, it was what Infelt. You know, thatitchy tingle47 you get on the back of your neck when someone’s watching you?”
“Sure,” said Milo.
“I’m glad you understand because my husband doesn’t. He’s convinced I’mflattering myself.”
“Husbands,” said Milo, grinning.
Wasserman’s return smile tested the outer limits of her skeletal face.
“Could there have been more than one person in the car, Ms. Wasserman?”
“I suppose so, but the feeling I got was one person.”
“The feeling.”
“There was just a…solitary flavor to him.” She touched a concave abdomen48. “Itrust this. ”
“Is there anything else you can say about him?”
“At first, I just figured it for guy behavior—checking out the goods. Afterthe Badge got stolen was when I started thinking he could’ve been up to nogood. Was the phone used?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where’d they call? Outer Mongolia or somecrazy place?”
“L.A.”
“Well,” said Angeline Wasserman, “that shows a lack of creativity. Maybe Iwas wrong.”
“About what?”
“Him being some high-level crime guy and not just a crook49.”
“High level because he knew what a Badge was,” said Milo.
“The whole image—being at Barneys, driving a Rover.”
“A Range Rover?”
“A real pretty one, shiny and new-y.”
“What color?”
“Silver, mine’s anthracite. That’s why it didn’t bother me at first, hislooking at me. Both of us with Rovers, parked near each other? Kind of atwinsie karma, you know?”
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outlets
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| n.出口( outlet的名词复数 )；经销店；插座；廉价经销店 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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scenic
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| adj.自然景色的，景色优美的 | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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offshore
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| adj.海面的，吹向海面的；adv.向海面 | |
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eastward
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furrows
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platinum
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syllable
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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warehouse
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pouted
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| v.撅（嘴）( pout的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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investigation
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evoked
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lookout
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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bent
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giggling
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hilarious
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lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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scrawling
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的现在分词 ) | |
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technically
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| adv.专门地，技术上地 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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ashtray
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| n.烟灰缸 | |
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bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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cravats
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| n.（系在衬衫衣领里面的）男式围巾( cravat的名词复数 ) | |
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trek
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apathy
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| n.漠不关心，无动于衷；冷淡 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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insouciant
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| adj.不在意的 | |
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demeanor
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tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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tingle
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| vi.感到刺痛，感到激动；n.刺痛，激动 | |
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48
abdomen
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| n.腹，下腹(胸部到腿部的部分) | |
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49
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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