“Beth Gallegos,” said Milo.
Paxton’s face slackened with disappointment. “So you know.”
“It came up recently, ma’am. In fact, we were just talking about it to your sister.”
“You’re serious? Sheila must have gone bonkers. She blamed the victim, right?”
“Exactly, ma’am.”
“That’s always been her way of dealing with stress,” said Paxton. “My poor sister lives on another planet- well, yes, that was part of what I was going to tell you. But that was only Gavin’s most serious problem, there have been others.”
“Other women he stalked?”
“I know of at least one girl he harassed, and my guess would be more. Because that kind of behavior’s a pattern, right?”
“Sure,” said Milo. “Who’s the other victim?”
“Gavin had a girlfriend- some rich kid from the Flats, I only met her once, skinny little blond thing with a nose like a hawk. I found her kind of snotty. Her father’s a prominent jingle writer. Gavin got sexually aggressive with her, and she dumped him.”
“How do you know about this, ma’am?”
“Because Gavin told me.”
“Gavin talked to you about his personal issues?”
“From time to time.” Paxton smiled and caressed her own neck. “The young, hip aunt. He liked the fact that I’m in the industry, more in touch with pop culture than his parents. We’d chat from time to time. The time he told me about Little Miss Beverly Hills- I think her name was Katya, something like that- we were all out to dinner- right up the block at Il Principe, the food’s divine.”
“I’ll have to try it,” said Milo. “So this was a family dinner?”
“Gavin, Sheila, and I. Jerry was out of town. As usual.”
“How long ago?”
“Um, I’d say half a year, maybe more. Anyway, there we were enjoying the fabulous food- they cook sea bass in a wood oven, make their own pasta from scratch- and all of a sudden, Sheila wasn’t feeling well- another typical Sheila thing, she can’t enjoy anything, not even a good meal, without suffering- and she ran to the little girls’ room and stayed there for a while. Gavin started talking to me, he’d been looking kind of tense all night. Finally, I pried it out of him. He’d lost his girlfriend because she wasn’t interested in sex. He called her a ‘compulsive virgin.’ ”
She propped the chewed-down biscotti between her index fingers. Rolled it. Placed it on her plate. “I asked him what had happened, and he told me. While he was telling it, he really worked himself up. It was clear he was angry and frustrated.”
“About losing the relationship.”
“No, that was the thing. He said he couldn’t care less about having a girlfriend, it was not getting sex that griped him. It really made him angry.”
“This was after the accident.”
“Shortly after- maybe it was eight months ago. But Gavin was always easily frustrated. As a little boy he threw all kinds of tantrums.”
“Excitable,” I said. “And now he was all worked up about not getting sex.”
“He talked about sex as if it was his right. Said he and the girl, Katya, had been going together on and off since high school, it was about time she put out. Like there was a schedule you adhered to. Then he said everyone else was ‘fucking themselves blind,’ the whole world was one big fuckfest swimming in jizz and he deserved to swim, too, and she could just go to hell, he’d find someone else.”
“Lots of anger,” I said.
“He always had a bad temper. It got worse after the accident. It was like his emotional barometer was off- he just did or said what was on his mind. I mean, I’m his aunt and he’s talking about jizz in a booth at Il Principe. I was mortified. Important people dine at that place.”
“Gavin was talking loud?”
“His voice kept rising, and I had to keep telling him to lower it. I tried to reason with him, told him women weren’t machines, they needed to be cared for, sex could be fun, but it had to be mutual. He listened, actually seemed to be taking it in. Then he slid over in the booth, and said, ‘Eileen, thanks. You’re awesome.’ Then he grabbed my breast in one hand, the back of my head with the other, and tried to shove his tongue down my throat- Gio? A refill, please.”
Milo pressed her for more on Gavin’s sex life and the family, but once she’d gotten past the basic hatred, there was nothing. He steered the conversation to Gavin’s tabloid fantasies.
“That,” she said, “is another thing he was impressed with- my work in the industry. He kept asking me to hook him up with some celebrity parties, so he could observe.” She laughed. “As if I’d help him dig dirt on my friends.”
“What was his angle?”
“Unearthing filth and selling it to the tabs. He saw it as his journalistic debut, he was going to make his mark as a journalist. I told him the tabs were trash and full of lies, but he wouldn’t hear it. He claimed they were more honest than the establishment press because they were open about their goals.”
“Filth.”
She nodded. “After the accident, Gavin saw the world as one big ball of filth.”
I said, “Did he make any progress toward being a journalist?”
“Like take a course or get an internship?” said Paxton. “Not to my knowledge. I’d doubt it. He really wasn’t in any shape to go back to school or hold down a job. Too flighty- he was drifting. Dropping out, sleeping in till noon, turning his room into a pigsty. I can’t blame him, I’m sure his brain was messed up. But Sheila didn’t even try to set limits. And Jerry, of course, was always gone.”
“Gavin did go into therapy.”
“Because the courts forced him to.”
“Did he tell you who his therapist was?”
“Jerry did. Dr. Koppel. Like it was some big deal.” She frowned.
“You know her?”
“I’ve heard her on the radio, and I have to say I’m not impressed. All she does is preach morality to idiots who phone in. Why not just go to church?”
Using the present tense. Milo and I looked at each other.
She said, “What?”
“Dr. Koppel was murdered.”
Paxton’s face went white. “What? When?”
“Couple of days ago.”
“My God- why don’t I know that- was it on the news?”
“There was an article in yesterday’s paper.”
“I never read the paper,” she said. “Except Calendar. Murdered, omigod. Are you saying it had something to do with Gavin?”
“No, ma’am.”
“But she- could it be coincidence?”
“Your sister didn’t seem impressed by that.”
“My sister’s crazy. Do you have any idea who killed her?”
Milo shook his head.
“Horrible, horrible,” she said. “You think there’s a chance it couldn’t be related to Gavin?”
“We don’t know, ma’am.”
“Oh, boy.” Paxton stayed serious for a while. Ate her biscotti and grinned. Back to coquettish. “Now you’re playing hard to get, Lieutenant.”
“Not really, ma’am.”
“Well… I hope this has been helpful. I’ve got to go.”
“One more question, ma’am. Do you remember that picture I showed you of the girl who died with Gavin?”
“Yes, of course. And I told you I’d never seen her before, and that was true.”
“Gavin talked to you about wanting to find a new girl. He told other people he’d succeeded.”
“What other people?”
“Let’s leave it at other people.”
“Mr. Inscrutable Detective,” said Paxton. She brushed her knee against Milo’s. “A new girl, huh? In Gavin’s mind that could’ve meant anything. Someone he decided to pursue, whether or not she wanted it. Someone he’d seen on TV.”