The Retro Look Read Online Free Page B

clients. That’s what happened, isn’t it?”
    He glowered at her.
    “To save the business you had to make good. And you couldn’t teach him a lesson by sending him to prison, because it would kill your reputation.”
    “I don’t have to listen to this. You’re guessing.”
    “But I’m right.”
    He nodded unwillingly.
    “I’ve been in this business for twelve years. That’s a lot of men. Three hundred? I don’t keep statistics, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”
    “So?”
    “So, about ten percent of my job is fucking.”
    She waited for the follow-up question, but he wasn’t playing.
    “You know what the other ninety percent is? Listening. That’s what a lot of guys really want. At this point I can practically look at a guy and tell him his life story. I’ve heard it all before.”
    “Okay, he stole from me.”
    “You washed your hands of him. But his mother didn’t.”
    “I kept catching her sending him money.”
    “But he couldn’t live on it. Not the way he wanted to. That’s why he started scamming casinos.”
    “Idiot. You can’t scam a casino.
    “He did well enough to pay me five hundred for an hour.”
    “Well, you can’t get away with it for long.”
    “That’s true. This scam was about to come crashing down. He just didn’t know it.” She stopped and looked at him. “What’s that grin about? You think it’s funny? “
    He shook his head but kept smiling. She decided to make him stop.
    “Your wife just died, didn’t she?”
    Another tidbit from Novotny.
    “How…?”
    “I know because you’re here. In Atlantic City. All those years, your son never told what he knew about you, because of what it would have done to his mother. But now nothing can hurt her.”
    “You can go.”
    “I don’t feel like going.”
    “You need help leaving?”
    “Let me just run a name by you. Roswitha Loschky.”
    There it was. He looked as if he had been waiting a long time to hear the name.
    “Your son knew you killed her. He’s been sitting on what he knows, and you just found out. What happened? Did he tell you at the funeral? No, that can’t be it, or you wouldn’t have let him come back here. He must have come here and then called you.”
    “What was that name?”
    “Don’t even try it. It’s way too late for that.”
    “What kind of bullshit did he tell you?”
    “He didn’t tell me. He showed me. It’s in one of his drawings. You remember his notebook?”
    He had decided to keep his mouth shut. She knew she couldn’t let him.
    “Did I mention how good the drawings were? He even got Roswitha’s unshaved legs. She was European, and it was a while ago. And he got you perfectly. I recognized you right off. The cops will too.”
    She held her breath. If Lax Sr. had looked through the drawings, he would know that he didn’t appear in any of them.
    “What do you want? Money?”
    She tried not to exhale audibly.
    “Money is always good. But I want to hear you say it.”
    “Why? Why do you care about some whore?”
    She watched him remember who she was.
    “Why do I care? A hooker gets killed, anywhere, anytime, I take it very personally. But you’re lucky I’m a whore, because that means money can make it right. Roswitha isn’t here to get paid, so it might as well be me.”
    Diana liked that line. It sounded like the kind of sleazy rationalization a blackmailer would use.
    “That bitch.”
    She jumped at the sudden fury in his words.
    “I knew what she was. There’s no way to hide it. But she thought she was too good for me. Wouldn’t take my money.”
    “She was on vacation. Things are different in Germany. Hooking is legal. They can act like real people and take time off. But you didn’t want to hear that. So you forced your way into her room.”
    “You weren’t there.”
    “He was. He wasn’t in the room, but he drew her lying on the ground outside the hotel. I don’t think she was a nice woman, if that’s any consolation, treating a young boy like that. She