Page 137 of Random in Death

“Alan Stuben tasseled loafers, size six and a half, brown leather.”

Charro’s narrow face, wide brown eyes, perfect red lips all showed only bafflement. “You’d like me to purchase a pair of Stubens for you?”

“No, I want to know who you bought them for in March.”

“Well, a shiny personal dream dulls. When I saw the display I thought, at last, Dallas wants me to dress her.”

“I like handling that myself. The Stubens.”

“Lieutenant, I can’t possibly tell you that off the top of my head. Last March? Months ago. And I do have a long list of clients. I’m good at what I do.”

“How many teenage boys do you shop for?”

“More accurately, I’m shopping for their parent for them, but quite a number. Teenage boys, particularly, rarely enjoy shopping. Parents who can afford me would rather pay out than drag said teenage boy through the shops. The dragging through rarely ends well.”

“I wouldn’t know, but I need a name.”

“I’ll look it up when I get back to my office and my records. I’m in New Jersey, with a client. I should be leaving within the hour.”

“He’s short, around five-six. Caucasian.”

“I’d tell you if I could. Why wouldn’t I? Very often I don’t see the teenager or child, just have measurements, sizes, and so on. It varies. If alterations are needed, they have their own tailor, or I arrange one.”

“You bought him five pair of Stubens on that single trip in March.”

Charro gave her a long look. “Again, I can’t tell you.”

“You buy his clothes, too. Conservative, button-down clothes.”

“Given the Stubens, I’d expect so. Private schools, which many of my clients patronize, often have strict dress codes, if they don’t require specific uniforms. I dress a great many young men between thirteen and nineteen.”

“He’s about sixteen.”

“Lieutenant, I understand this is important, honestly. But the longer you keep me on this ’link trying to jog something I can’t possibly jog, the longer it’ll be until I can finish here and come back to check my records.”

Damn it, Eve thought. She was right.

“Contact me as soon as you have the information.”

Eve clicked off.

“Damn it! She’s the conduit. I know it.”

“We may be close, but I don’t see we’ve got probable cause for a warrant to get into her place and go through the records ourselves.”

“No. Let’s get back to Central. We’re going to get that face, and we’re going to get a name. We’ll start pushing on where else Charro does her personal shopping. High-end venues that carry clothes in his size.”

An hour, she’d said, and Yancy would need at least that.

So they’d keep at the job until.

Chapter Nineteen

She’d barely pulled away from the curb when she spotted the street thief and his oblivious target. The woman with a tower of gold-streaked red hair and a rat-sized dog on a leash carried three shopping bags. She wore mile-high pink heels with tiny grass-green polka dots and a tiny dress that reversed the color scheme. She’d gone with a white purse smothered in polka dots of both colors.

She wore it cross-body, but it bumped carelessly behind her left hip while she chatted away on her sparkly purple ’link.

She might as well have added a sign saying: PICK ME!