The Final Detail: A Myron Bolitar Novel Read Online Free Page B

you, Mr. Bolitar. I’m sorry.”
    “Why not?”
    “She told me not to.”
    “Esperanza can’t bear the brunt of this on her own,” Myron said. “She’s going to need a lawyer.”
    “She has one.”
    “Who?”
    “Hester Crimstein.”
    Big Cyndi gasped as though she realized she’d said toomuch, but Myron wondered if the slip had been intentional.
    “How did she get Hester Crimstein?” Myron asked.
    “I can’t say any more, Mr. Bolitar. Please don’t be mad at me.”
    “I’m not mad, Big Cyndi. I’m just concerned.”
    Big Cyndi smiled at him then. The sight made Myron bite back a scream. “It’s nice to have you back,” she said.
    “Thank you.”
    She put her head on his shoulder. The weight made him teeter, but he remained relatively upright. “You know how I feel about Esperanza,” Myron said.
    “Yes,” Big Cyndi said. “You love her. And she loves you.”
    “So let me help.”
    Big Cyndi lifted her head off his shoulder. Blood circulated again. “I think you should leave now.”
    Myron stood. “Come on. We’ll give you a ride home.”
    “No, I’m staying.”
    “It’s raining and it’s late. Someone might try to attack you. It’s not safe out here.”
    “I can take care of myself,” Big Cyndi said.
    He had meant that it wasn’t safe for the attackers, but he let it pass. “You can’t stay out here all night.”
    “I’m not leaving Esperanza alone.”
    “But she won’t even know you’re here.”
    Big Cyndi wiped the rain from her face with a hand the size of a truck tire. “She knows.”
    Myron looked back at the car. Win was leaning against the door now, arms crossed, umbrella resting on his shoulder. Very Gene Kelly. He nodded at Myron.
    “You’re sure?” Myron asked.
    “Yes, Mr. Bolitar. Oh, and I’ll be late for work tomorrow. I hope you understand.”
    Myron nodded. They stared at each other, the rain cascading down their faces. A howl of laughter made both of them turn to the right and look at the fortresslike structure that contained the holding cells. Esperanza, the person closest to them both, was incarcerated in there. Myron stepped toward the limousine. Then he turned back around.
    “Esperanza wouldn’t kill anyone,” he said.
    He waited for Big Cyndi to agree or at least nod her head. But she didn’t. She hunched the shoulders back up and disappeared within herself.
    Myron slid back into the car. Win followed, handing Myron a towel. The driver started up.
    “Hester Crimstein is her attorney,” Myron said.
    “Ms. Court TV?”
    “The same.”
    “Ah,” Win said. “And what’s the name of her show again?”
    “Crimstein on Crime,”
Myron said.
    Win frowned. “Cute.”
    “She had a book with the same title.” Myron shook his head. “This is weird. Hester Crimstein doesn’t take many cases anymore. So how did Esperanza land her?”
    Win tapped his chin with his forefinger. “I’m not positive,” he said, “but I believe Esperanza had a fling with her a couple of months back.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “Well, yes, I am such a mirthful fellow. And wasn’t that just the funniest line?”
    Wiseass. But it made sense. Esperanza was as perfect a bisexual as you could find—perfect because everyone, no matter what his or her sex or preference, found her immensely attractive. If you’re going to go all ways, might as well have universal appeal, right?
    Myron mulled this over a few moments. “Do you know where Hester Crimstein lives?” he asked.
    “Two buildings up from me on Central Park West.”
    “So let’s pay her a visit.”
    Win frowned. “Why?”
    “Maybe she can fill us in.”
    “She won’t talk to us.”
    “Maybe she will.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “For one thing,” Myron said, “I’m feeling particularly charming.”
    “By God.” Win leaned forward. “Driver, step on the gas.”

CHAPTER 5
    Win lived at the Dakota, one of Manhattan’s swankiest buildings. Hester Crimstein lived two blocks north at the San