American Sextet by Warren Adler

reference? Or had she
gratuitously flaunted her knowledge of the way things worked?
    "It happens sometimes," she said. She'd noted
that in him before, the taut sensitivity, the smoldering inner life.
    "I suppose I'll find out when I'm older," he
said.
    "Touché!"
    Even later, as they investigated the "naturals,"
all of which were routine, something was still awry between them. Part of it
was her own uneasiness. She hadn't told him about her conversation with Dr.
Benton, a violation of the partnership code. That was police business, not
secret thoughts. It nagged at her all morning. It wasn't until they were having
a cup of coffee in Sherry's, a staticy radio crackling between them, that she
found the courage to broach the subject.
    "I asked Dr. Benton to take a vaginal smear of the
jumper," she said.
    "You did? I thought you had lost interest."
Sipping his coffee, he squinted at her over the rim of his cup.
    "Whatever gave you that idea?"
    "I figured you told the eggplant and he put you down
for it."
    "You think that would stop me?"
    "It had to be something. You had been so turned
on."
    "I still am," she said flatly.
    "Good." He reached into his pocket and threw a
metal object on the table. She looked at it, then back at him. The object was a
tiny pin, less than an inch long, four silver stars on a silver bar. After
inspecting it, she put it back on the table.
    "For me?" she asked facetiously.
    "For someone."
    "Are we playing games?"
    He seemed to enjoy her confusion, then wiped away his grin,
and looking around him, spoke in a whisper.
    "I went to her place again. I found this pinned to a
panty. In an odd place. Right at the Y." His throat caught and he cleared
it. "I wasn't sure what the hell it was at first. Anyway, there it
is."
    "Sly little bastard," she mocked.
    "You were making such a big deal about it."
    She fingered the object.
    "A general," he said.
    "I don't know what it means," she admitted.
    "Sure you do. She had a general for a boyfriend. Four
stars."
    "That's no crime," she said, watching him.
Finally, she asked, "Why did you go back?"
    "Pissed off," he said, making it sound like a
genuine confession. "You were blowing hot and cold. I thought you put me
down for what I'd found out ... the man in the woodpile. I thought that was
pretty damn good detecting."
    It was, she supposed, fingering the pin. She hadn't found
it, although she had looked in the drawers, not thinking to disturb the neat
pile of panties. It told her something about male curiosity, but he had plowed
fertile ground.
    She held the pin up to the light, inspecting it. Taking it
as a signal to proceed further, Cates took a notebook from his pocket.
    "The lease was in her own name," he said,
referring to his notes. "The rent was $575, and she paid three months in
advance. Her take home from Saks was $800 a month. Figure that out. They said
she was good when she worked. Sporadic attendance, but they liked her. No close
friends with employees. Very close-mouthed. A little slow on the uptake, but
good with the customers. One of her co-workers thought her job seemed like a
hobby."
    He rattled on, his handsome, light chocolate features
infused with an excitement she found distressing. The implications, of course,
were obvious. They had been obvious from the beginning. The girl had been
someone's mistress, just like herself. The coffee became acidy in her stomach
and she was suddenly nauseated.
    "The basic question is still foul play," she
said, gulping air. "We're not the Moral Majority."
    "No," he said. "The basic question is
you."
    "I don't understand."
    Was she that transparent? she wondered. Had he investigated
her personal life as well? She had studiously avoided discussing with him any
private references to her life. But he hadn't volunteered much about himself
either, as if their lives began and ended with their work.
    "Frankly," he admitted, "I couldn't see why
you were so interested at the beginning. Then I decided you must have had a
theory in