“I could eat.”
“How about a deli?”
“Never met a deli I didn’t like.”
“Place called Maury’s.” Milo gave the address. “When can you be there?”
“Traffic, detours?” said Coolidge. “Give me forty. I’m late, order me a pastrami on rye. Don’t trim the fat.”
—
Milo said, “More bodies in a car,” stood and stretched and rubbed chin stubble. “Gonna be a long weekend, time to change my shirt and shave. You have something to keep you occupied while I’m nice to myself?”
“Always.”
“Yeah, yeah, active mind.”
When he was gone, I dialed Robin’s cell.
She said, “Hi, darling.”
“Hi. Still working?”
“Just stopped and ran a bath. About to step in.”
“The image will sustain me.”
“Will it? Okay, I’m loosening my hair andbendingand…”
I said, “Now you’re endangering my health.”
She laughed. “Would a discussion about nutrition be apropos?”
“If you’re up for a late dinner, I am, too.”
“How much later?”
“Hard to say.”
“Something came up with the Big Guy.”
I said, “Two more bodies. He’s meeting with another detective.”
“Over food.”
“What else?”
“What kind of food?”
“Deli. I’m not hungry, can last till I get home. But if you are, don’t wait.”
“Two more bodies,” she said. “Similar to the other one?”
“Inglewood, a smaller car. The female victim took care of Benny Alvarez.”
“Oh. I can see why he’d want you there. Deli, huh? Haven’t had that for a while. Bring me home a pastrami on rye and get something for yourself, we’re running low on leftovers.”
“With or without the fat?”
