“She came to me for help, knew I was a cop,” he said. “I can’t help her. She has no case, no evidence. She needs … hell …”
“A private investigator,” I supplied without a smile.
Phil turned his back and sighed deeply. “Right,” he said.
“And do I know this person who needs help?” I prompted.
He said nothing, and I repeated my question.
“Mae West,” he said. “It’s Mae West.”