"Anything," she said. "He'sa willing worker, but the trouble is he isn't trained for anything, I meanafter he lost his teaching credentials, and then the dance studio folded. Doyou think you could get him something to do in Hollywood?"

"I'd certainly like to talk tohim," I said truthfully.

She was tipsy and hopeful, and she wasn'tsurprised by my interest in her brother.

"That can be arranged," shesaid. "As a matter of fact he's at my apartment right now. I could callhim and tell him to come over here."

"Let's have dinner first."

"I don't mind paying for Jud'sdinner." She realized she had made a tactical error, and quicklyback-tracked: "But I guess three's company, eh? I mean two."

She talked so much about her brother atdinner that it was almost like having him there. She recited his old footballstatistics. She told me, with a kind of vicarious enthusiasm, all about hisprowess with the ladies. She explained about the brilliant ideas Jud was alwayshatching. The one I liked best was a plan for a condensed version of the Bible,with all the offensive passages removed, for family reading.

Sally couldn't drink. She was coming apartby the time we finished eating. She wanted to pick up her brother and go andhell around in the clubs, but my heart wasn't in it. I took her home. In thecab she went to sleep on my shoulder. This I didn't mind.

I woke her up on Riley Street and got herinto the house and up the stairs. She seemed very large and loosely puttogether, and the foxes kept slipping. I felt as if I'd been nursing drunks allweekend.

A man in shirtsleeves and form-fittingtrousers opened the door of her flat. With Sally leaning on me, I got a quickimpression of him: a man of half-qualities who lived in a halfworld: he washalf-handsome, half-lost, half-spoiled, half-smart, half-dangerous. His pointedItalian shoes were scuffed at the toes.

"Need any help?" he said to me.

"Don't be ridic," Sally said."I'm in perfect control. Mr. Archer, meet brother Jud, Judson Foley."

"Hello," he said. "Youshouldn't have let her drink. She's got a weak head for liquor. Here, I'll takeher."

With weary skill he looped her arm overhis shoulders, clasped her around the waist, walked her through the front roominto a lighted bedroom, laid her out on the Hollywood bed, and turned off thelight.

He seemed unpleasantly surprised to findme still in the front room. "Good night, Mr. Archer, or whatever your nameis. We're closing up for the night now."

"You're not very hospitable."

"No. My sister is the hospitableone." He cast a sour glance around the little room, at overflowingashtrays, clouded glasses, scattered newspapers. "I never saw you before,I'll never see you again. Why should I be hospitable?"

"You're sure you never saw me before?Think hard."

His brown eyes studied my face, and thenmy body. He scratched nervously at the front of his thinning hair. He shook hishead.

"If I ever saw you before I must havebeen drunk at the time. Did Sally bring you here when I was drunk?"

"No. Were you drinking last Fridaynight?"

"Let's see, what night was that? Ithink I was out of town. Yeah. I didn't get back here until Saturdaymorning." He was trying to sound casual and look unconcerned. "Itmust have been two other guys."

"I don't think so, Jud. I ran into you, or youran into me, about nine last Friday night in Pacific Point."

Panic brightened his face like a flash of lightning."Who are you?"

"I chased you down Helen Haggerty's driveway,remember? You were too fast for me. It took me two days to catch up."

He was breathing as if he'd just finished the run."Are you from the police?"

"I'm a private detective."

He sat down in a Danish chair, grippingthe fragile arms so hard I thought they might break. He snickered. It was veryclose to a sob.

"This is Bradshaw's idea, isn't it?"

I didn't answer him. I cleared a chair and sat in it.

"Bradshaw said he was satisfied withmy story. Now he sends you up against me." His eyes narrowed. "Isuppose you were pumping my sister about me."

"She doesn't need much priming."

Twisting in the chair, he threw a wickedlook in the direction of her bedroom. "I wish she'd keep her mouth shutabout my business."

"Don't blame her for what you didyourself."

"But the hell of it is I didn't doanything. I told Bradshaw that, and he believed me, at least he said hedid."

"Are you talking about RoyBradshaw?"

"Who else? He recognized me the othernight, or thought he did. I didn't know who it was I bumped in the dark. I justwanted out of there."

"Why?"

He lifted his heavy shoulders and sat withthem lifted, head down between them. "I didn't want trouble with the

© Alexander Sviyash, 2009