"Cleaned out pretty good," the super said.
"Swept up most of the garbage myself." He walked me back through the bedrooms.
"See those?" He pointed, chuckled.
"Couldn't take those with them, could they?"
I think I was in a kind of daze because it took me a while to figure out what he meant. I looked at him, and he pointed again, first at the closet doors, which were faced with mirrors, and then at the ceilings above the beds where mirrors were mounted too. He laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"Hey, buddy, I'm the super. My job's keep the building neat and clean. they pulled out over the weekend. Neighbors seen one of 'em moving suitcases and crap, yesterday and Saturday too. You gotta expect the old quick exit with girls like that." He looked at me. "they come and go-" The guy was starting to annoy me.
"Girls like what?"
"Professionally speaking's what I mean."
"Kim Yates is an actress."
"Sure. Suit yourself. Miss Kimberly and the colored girl, one who calls herself 'Shadow'… Well, they're all actresses, ain't they?" He laughed again.
"Listen, maybe you wanna talk to the neighbors. Three-C's seen them moving. And the fairies in three-H, end of the hall-one of them knew your Miss Kimberly pretty well.
I knocked on 3-C. The door was opened by a middleaged man who reminded me of a Saint Bernard. He was red-haired, heavyset, unshaven, with hooded watery eyes.
"Yeah?" He wore a navy blue terry-cloth robe, open to the waist, exposing a heavy gold link chain nestled in curls of coppery hair that carpeted his upper chest.
"I understand from the super you saw the two girls moving out of three-A," I said. He scratched at his stomach.
"So?"
"I'm a friend of one of them."
"Which one?"
"Kim Yates."
He nodded.
"White girl? Yeah, saw her yesterday. The other one, the black-haven't seen her since Friday P.M."
"What time did you see the white girl?"
"Late morning, I think. She came out of there with suitcases. Then later I saw her coming out of three-H." He shook his head.
"Won't miss them, I can tell you that. Don't mind a couple of pretty girls want to make an honest living. But those two. He shook his head and leered.
I went down the hall to 3-H. A lean young man, preppie type, with nice even features, opened up the door. He wore jeans and a ribbed black tank top. A Thank of light brown hair hung across his forehead.
"Hi." He smiled at me, but something in his smile struck me as forced.
"Sorry to intrude," I said.
"The super suggested I talk to you. My name's Geoffrey Barnett. I'm a friend of Kim Yates down the hall."
"Kimberly@ure. But she's gone. Left yesterday. I'm Brent." He offered his hand.
"One of your neighbors said he saw her coming out of here.
"That's right. She stopped in to say good-bye to Jess. Jess Harrison, my roommate."
"Is he here? Could I talk to him?"
"He's here." Brent lowered his voice.
"But I don't know-"
"I'd really like to talk to him," I said.
Brent studied me for a moment.
"All right, I'll check." He motioned me inside.
While I waited I looked around the living room. A potted plant, leaves starting to brown, stood before the window. A framed Diane Arbus exhibition poster was mounted on the wall. A pair of ballet slippers, signed by Heather Watts, hung beside the light switch from a hook. There was a handsome rosewood stereo system and a large collection of compact discs.
Brent reappeared.
"Jess isn't feeling all that good, but he'll talk to you a little anyway. He's got AIDS. Wanted me to tell you. If you change your mind, he'll understand."
"I haven't changed my mind," I said.
Brent nodded.
"One thing I ask, seems like he's getting tired, please excuse yourself.
He had a pretty rough night last night."
Jess, older than Brent and starting to bald, waved to me from the bed.
He lay on top of the sheets wearing a pair of gray gym shorts and a T-shirt that bore the faded words "West Point." He held a damp washcloth to his forehead and he looked pretty sick.
"You're the photographer?" Inodded, "Kimberly mentioned you." He gestured toward a chair.
"I appreciate your seeing me," I said, "because right now i m pretty confused. Kim and I had a brunch date yesterday afternoon. She didn't show, so I called and called. Now her apartment's empty and the guy down the hall says he saw her moving out with suitcases yesterday before she and I were even supposed to meet."
"was around noon when she left," Jess said.
"She stopped in to say good-bye."
"You say she mentioned me?"
He nodded.
"Not yesterday. But she spoke of you several times. Said you were taking these fantastic pictures of her. I know she liked you a lot."
Liked me! "That's nice to hear," I said.
"But apparently she didn't like me well enough to say good-bye."
"I'm sorry…"
"Didn't even call."
He looked at me.
"What can I say?"
I stood, then started to pace.
"Look, you don't know me, Jess. No reason you should care. But Kim and I, we had something going. Something serious-at least that's what I thought. Now she's stood me up, no reason I can think of except we had a fight on Friday night. But we made it up on Saturday. Meantime she's cleared out her place. And now the slob super and the jerk in three-C, they talk about her like she and Shadow, like they were… I don't know-"
"What?"
"Hookers. Or something like that."
"they said that?" "No. But they made it pretty clear."
He turned away. There was silence in the room. When he spoke again it was in a whisper.
" It's true, I'm afraid."
I stared at him.
"Now, what the hell, Jess! I mean, how the hell can that be?"
"It's awkward for me to be the one-"
"I understand." I sat down again. I felt as if I'd been kicked.
"Please, you got to tell me what you know."
He shook his head, as if to clear his brain.
"Kimberly told me she and Shadow did tricks. She also told me they'd been lovers once. I assumed they still were. At least sometimes. Of course there's nothing wrong with being gay."
"Of course not. But 'tricks'?" He shrugged. I could see the word made him uneasy.
"She told me they were actresses, models-"
"they are. Shadow's a very successful model, and Kimberly's extremely serious about her acting. She didn't talk all that much about herself, even when we dished the dirt. I know she's from Cleveland, upper-middle-class family, and that she quit college to come here and study. She met Shadow in one of her classes. Shadow introduced her to a lady who ran an escort service. Shadow was working for the woman, so Kimberly started working for her too. Just to make extra money. Part time at first. Then, I gather, she and Shadow-they became sort of famous as a team." Jesus!
He shook his head.
"I know it sounds bad. But maybe not as bad as you think."
"I think it's pretty bad," I said.
"Well, it's not like she was out hooking on the street." He removed the washcloth from his forehead and carefully wiped his brow.
"Look, I know guys… I mean I used to hustle occasionally myself when I needed the bread., At least her way was safe. Prescreened clientele. Rich guys, tycoons, big-shot attorneys. Not sleazy salesmen from out of town."
"Jesus, Jess! was she really so goddamn desperate?"