Chapter 13. The girl behind the desk eyed me suspiciously. She was subtle about it, the way some

people are when they've cast themselves in a story of intrigue that has nothing at all to do with them.

I'm sure it made her life, as Girl Friday, to the best cheap lawyer money can buy, a little more

interesting, but I hadn't

had nearly enough sleep to play along and I'd wish that she'd cut it out. I was probably not the

typical visitor to sit Edelman's office, that much I would be prepared to accept. Edelman

represented a rotating rogues gallery that ranged from not necessarily entirely criminal

to the holy and irrevocably guilty. The only thing that every one of them had in common

was that they had enough experience with the law to have a prearranged relationship with Edelman.

I suppose it was possible that there were a few Femmes Fatal who had Sid's number in their

roll of decks, but he really specialized in middle depths of the pool of criminal talent.

Business girls up on misdemeanor solicitation would take their chances with a PD and get their

wrist slapped with a fine and time served. It was the cost of doing business and it was still

cheaper than a proper

lawyer who wouldn't be able to do a thing for them anyway. And anyone higher up in the

world's oldest food chain, the high-class talent and the madame's, would fall under the protection

of whichever one of the city's big gangs was running prostitution these days. The Mason

gang was a leading light, but I did not keep a scorecard,

as it very seldom fell into our baili-wig. All of which is by way of saying that there were

probably a dearth of leggy blondes in the waiting room on an annual basis, which probably

allowed the girl Friday to play Queen Bee on an average day, which is probably why she regarded

me with such a stink

...