K Is for Killer

investigation, yes?"
    "Dolan and me, with a couple more guys thrown in. This is the long and short of it," he said, ticking the items off his fingers. "There was no way to determine cause of death. We still aren't absolutely certain what day it was, let alone what time frame. There was no significant trace evidence, no witnesses, no motive, no suspects..."
    "And no case," I supplied.
    "You got it. Either this was not a homicide to begin with or the killer led a charmed life."
    "I'll say."
    "You going to do it?"
    "Don't know yet. Thought I'd better talk to you first."
    "Have you seen a picture of her? She was beautiful. Screwed up, but gorgeous. Talk about a dark side. My God."
    "Like what?"
    "She had this part-time job at the water treatment plant. She's a clerk-typist. You know, she does a little phone work, a little filing, maybe four hours a day. She tells everybody she's working her way through city college, which is true in its way. She takes a class now and then, but it's only half the story. What she's really up to is a bit of high-class hooking. She's making fifteen hundred bucks a pop. We're talkin' substantial sums of money at the time of her death."
    "Who'd she work for?"
    "Nobody. She was independent. She started doing out-call. Exotic dance and massage. Guys phone this service listed in the classifieds, and she goes out and does some kind of bump-and-grind strip while they abuse themselves. The game is you can't make a deal for more than that up front – Undercover used to call and pull that 'til everybody wised up – but once she's on the premises, she can negotiate whatever services the client wants. It's strictly their transaction."
    "For which she gets paid what?"
    Cheney shrugged. "Depends on what she does. Straight sex is probably a hundred and fifty bucks, which she ends up splitting with the management. Pretty quick, she figures out she has more on the ball, so she bags the cheap gigs and moves up to the big time."
    "Here in town?"
    "For the most part. I understand they used to see quite a bit of her in the bar at the Edgewater Hotel. She also cruised through Bubbles in Montebello, which you probably heard was closed down last July. She had a penchant for the places where the high rollers hung out."
    "Did her mother know this?"
    "Sure she did. Absolutely. Lorna was even picked up once on a misdemeanor for soliciting an undercover vice officer at Bubbles. We didn't want to rub her mother's nose in the fact, but she was certainly informed."
    "Maybe it's just beginning to sink in," I said. "Someone sent her a copy of a pornographic film in which Lorna loomed large. Apparently that's what prompted her to come see me. She thinks Lorna was either blackmailed into it or working undercover."
    "Oh, yeah, right," he said.
    "I'm just telling you her assumption."
    Cheney snorted. "She's in denial big time. Have you actually seen this tape?"
    "I just saw it tonight. It was pretty raunchy."
    "Yeah, well, I'm not sure how much difference it makes. The kind of stuff she was into, it really doesn't surprise me. How's it supposed to tie in? That's the part I don't get."
    "Janice thinks Lorna was about to blow the whistle on someone."
    "Oh, man, that lady's seen too many bad TV movies. Blow the whistle on who, and for what? Those people are legitimate... in some sense of the word. They're probably scumbags, but that's not against the law in this state. Look at all the politicians."
    "That's what I told her. Anyway, I'm trying to figure out if there's enough to warrant my taking on the job. If you guys couldn't come up with anything, how can I?"
    "Maybe you'll get lucky. I'm one of life's eternal optimists. Case is still open, but we ain't had jackshit for months. You want to look at the files, it can probably be arranged."
    "That'd be great. What I'd really like to see are the crime scene photographs."
    "I'll try to clear it with Lieutenant Dolan, but I don't think he'll object. You heard he's in the hospital? He had a heart attack."
    I was so startled, I put a hand to my own heart, nearly knocking my glass over in the process. I caught it before it tipped, though a little wave of wine slopped out. "Dolan had a heart attack? That's awful! When was this?"
    "Yesterday, right after squad meeting, he started having chest pains. Like boom, he's in trouble. Guy looks like shit, and he's short of breath. Next thing I know he's out like a light. Everybody scrambling around, doing CPR. Paramedics pulled him back from the