Chapter 10. The cop opened the door to the consulting room and directed me in with a little

push that was meant to seem tough. You got ten minutes, he said. The long brunette seated at the table

didn't even look up from her paperwork. We've got however long I say we've got little man, she said

frostily, and don't you forget it.

The cop said nothing but made the tactical error of not running away. Molly Cameron looked up at him

and smiled condescendingly as the lady of the manor might towards the deformed idiot servant boy.

We'll let you know if we need anything,' she said.

The cop closed the door, muttering impotently to himself as he did so.

I sat down at the table across from my attorney who put her papers away in an unhurried fashion.

Molly Cameron did everything in an unhurried fashion.

She moved like a panther that got paid by the hour. I liked her

anyway. Molly, I said, by way of a greeting as I sat. Not much of an entrance, Molly pouted.

I thought we were having a dramatic moment. Thank heavens you've come, I deadpanned. That's better, she said,

fishing out a pack of cigarettes and absent-mindedly offering it to me.

"'Cigarette?'

"'I took one and stuck it behind my ear.

"'I'll save it for later,' I said.

"'They're like money in the joint.'

Molly smiled and shook her head.

She lit one herself.

If she remained true to form, she would barely smoke it, but would make extensive use of it as the conversation prop, punctuating her sentences with tiny gestures.

Molly liked props. She liked anything that made it tough to look away from her. She wasn't needy, but she was the star of the show wherever she went, and she liked it that way just fine.

...