I CALLED CANDY from the street.
"Buzz downstairs. Tell the doorman you're expecting a package. Two guys'll be bringing it up."
"Now?"
"Yeah."
Max and I carried the giant carton stamped with the brand name of the TV set in big black letters. His sleeves were rolled up, biceps popping with the strain, veins roped on his forearms. I kept my coat on. The doorman took us up in the service elevator, let us out on her floor. I picked up the empty carton by a corner and carried it in one hand as Max faded into the stairwell.
She opened the door while my finger was still on the buzzer. Stepped aside to let me in.
"Where's the other guy?"
"He went back down to the car."
"You brought me a present?"
"It's empty."
"It's the thought that counts."
"Tell me what you want."
She was wearing a red silk slip. Barefoot. Thick brunette wig, yellow cat's eyes patient. "Can we talk in the back?"
I followed her down the hall. The backs of her legs were muscular, hips rolling in a tight round arc. "Any particular room you want?" she asked.
"I don't care," I said to her shoulder. "Where's the kid?"
"Back in school."
She turned into the last room. The only window was masked behind a midnight-blue screen- twilight inside. She tilted her head at a reclining black leather chair in the corner, chrome dish ashtray atop a black tripod next to it. I sat down. Lit a smoke. She propped one leg on the psychiatrist's couch, stood sideways facing me, flexing the muscles in her leg.
"That's the part that goes soft first," she said, patting the inside of her thigh. "Mine're like rocks."
"Great."
"It doesn't do anything for you?"
"Why should it?"
"You're a man."
I thought about Wesley, watching the shadow on the inside of her thigh.
"I've seen it before."
She left the room. I dragged on the smoke, knowing I was there for a reason. Not her reason.
When she came back in, she was naked. This time she had on a fluffy blond wig piled up on top of her head, soft tendrils framing her face. Lavender eyes. Black spike heels, no stockings. A black garter banded her left thigh. Her right hand was full of leather and steel.
"You don't trust me?"
"No."
"I need you to trust me. I can be whatever you want. Any woman you want. Just close your eyes and think of it. Tell me. And it happens."
My eyes slitted until she was out of focus, smoke drifting past my face. Her purring voice was background music.
Belle. The big girl twirling before me in her new outfit, pretty-proud, prom-bound. "Come on."
Strega. On her knees but not begging, witch-fire eyes promising threats. "You'll be back."
Flood. The chubby little blonde, scars on her body never reaching her heart. Merry, bouncing flesh. All her debts squared now. "I'm for you, Burke" was how she'd said goodbye.
The music stopped. "You can't be anything I want," I told her.
"Your voice is different. The last time you were here, you said cold things. But they were weak. I know when someone's playing a role. That's what I do. You're not playing now."
"You're a lousy psychologist."
"I know when someone's lying."
"You should."
She tossed whatever she was carrying onto the couch. Bent at the waist, rooted around. She held a circle of chain in her hand for me to see, then she pulled it over her head like a necklace. "You know what this is?"
"No."
She walked over to my chair, hands behind her back. Dropped to her knees on the rug. "It's a choke collar. For dogs. See?" She pulled the ring and the steel noose tightened around her neck.
I waited.
Her other hand came from behind her back. Handcuffs. She tossed the key in my lap. Snapped one of the cuffs on her wrist. Reached her free hand behind her. A leather leash. She snapped the hook onto the collar ring. Put her hands together behind her back. I heard the other cuff click home. She turned on her knees, back to me. Held out her cuffed hands. "See?"
"See what?"
She turned again to face me. "Take the leash. Hold it in your hands. There's nothing I can do. Tug on the leash, I come along. Like a dog. Pull too tight and I can't breathe. Try it."
The leash curled like a snake on my leg. I didn't touch it. "What's this supposed to mean?"
"There's more straps on the couch. You can do whatever you want. There's no way I can hurt you."
"You couldn't hurt me over the phone either."
"You're afraid."
"Not of you."
"Of you. Of yourself Take the leash. Hold it in your hand. Feel the power."
I took the leash in my hand, watching her eyes watch me. Something stirred. "I don't feel anything."
"Yes you do. Don't be afraid of it."
"Tell me what you want."
"I lied. My daughter went back to him. Train. I want her back. I want you to get her back."
"How?"
"Talk to him."
"It won't work twice."
"Yes it will. Just go visit him again. A couple of times. Watch his office. Let him see you. Elvira will know. She'll know you'll always be around. He doesn't want people poking into his business. Another girl won't be worth it to him. Just be around. You don't have to do anything. Just be yourself. Tell Train you're investigating him or something."
"What if it doesn't work?"
"A couple of weeks, that's all. Just a couple of weeks. If it doesn't work by then, give it up. Okay?"
"You're paying for this?"
"Whatever you want."
"Money's what I want."
"What about me?"
"What about you?"
"I lied to you. And now I confessed. Don't you think I should be punished?"
"Not by me."
"Don't be afraid. You feel it, I know you do." She pushed her face closer, dropping it into my lap. My mind saw the message Wesley left on the rich woman's bed. I felt her lips against me. I was as limp as the leash in my hand.
She pulled her head back. "I thought…"
I climbed out of the chair. "I'll call you," I said.
She struggled to her feet, following me down the hall, hands cuffed behind her, the leash dangling from the choke collar.
"Burke!"
I stopped in the living room, waiting. "Get me out of these handcuffs. Or leave me the key. I don't have another one. I can't stay tied up like this."
Lousy little liar. "Call a friend," I told her.