“Can I help you with something in particular?”
“I’m looking for a winter coat. Is this all you have?”
“Let me check in the back. I have a few items that came in I haven’t had a chance to ring into the system.”
She disappeared into the rear of the store and returned moments later with two coats on hangers. One was a double-breasted camel-hair coat for $395, plus change. The other, a full-length black shearling for a nifty $500.
“That one,” I said, pointing to the camel hair.
“Very nice. Let’s see how it fits.”
She helped me slip my arms into the sleeves and then she adjusted the coat at the shoulder until it sat properly. She directed me to the wall-mounted mirror nearby, and I modeled the coat, taking a look at myself from the rear. It actually looked pretty good. “Kind of pricey, isn’t it?”
“This is from Lord and Taylor. It retailed originally for fifteen hundred dollars.”
“Oh. Well, I guess I better snap it up,” I said.
I waited while she rang up the sale. The charge went through without a blip. I signed the slip and tucked my copy of the receipt in my jeans pocket, wondering if it was an expense I could write off. I allowed her to swaddle the coat in tissue paper before she placed it into a shopping bag.
I thanked her and left, making a quick right-hand turn into the wig shop next door, where I selected a head of shoulder-length blond hair for $29.95. I pulled it on, slicking my hair under the edges of the wig and out of sight. I stared at myself in the mirror, bemused by the woman looking back at me.
The salesclerk was male and clearly had opinions about what was suitable for someone who looked as clueless as I did. “Maybe something closer to your natural shade,” he said.
“I like this. It’s perfect.” While it was already hot and scratchy, I was smitten with the image of myself as a blonde.
“I’m not a fan of synthetics, if you don’t mind my saying so. I’d recommend real hair. We have hand- or machine-tied cranial prostheses with nonslip cap construction.”
“This is for a costume party. It’s a joke.”
He was wise enough to keep additional remarks to himself, but his disappointment was palpable.
The transaction took longer than I thought was absolutely necessary, but it gave me a chance to pull out the coat and shrug myself into it. I put my shoulder bag in the twine-handled shopping bag, knowing that from a distance, my shoulder bag was as much a visual cue to my identity as my clothing.
“Nice coat,” he said as he handed me my change.
“Lord and Taylor.”
“I can tell.”
The short walk back to the pawnshop gave me the opportunity to scour the area for surveillance measures. While I didn’t see anything that seemed out of place, that was no guarantee Len hadn’t made the relevant arrangements. At the same time, I didn’t believe he had an unlimited number of pals willing to volunteer their services regardless of the story he told.
When I reentered the pawnshop, June was busy with a customer but looked up. She wasn’t fooled by my disguise but it wasn’t meant to deceive her. As soon as she was free she gestured me over. The two guys working with her must have been aware what we were up to because neither paid much attention when she ushered me into the rear.
Pinky was holed up in a combination broom closet and bathroom where a toilet and small sink shared space with mops, a bucket on wheels, and storage shelves filled top to bottom with recently hocked power tools and small home appliances. The air smelled like motor oil and an air freshener that didn’t even come close to freshening the air. A black-and-white television monitor on one side of the vanity displayed a view of the shop out front. As soon as Pinky realized it was me, he flashed me a big goofy grin, probably thinking June had talked me into helping him where he had failed. He took my hand in his and patted it. “Thank you.”
I wanted to point out I hadn’t done anything yet, but I had another matter on my mind. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d set up a meeting with some guy to hand over the photographs. Wasn’t that the plan?”
“That’s just it. I been trying to get in touch with the fellow, but his office doesn’t know where he is. June let me go out to the counter twice to use the phone, but then she put her foot down. She’s worried Len’ll come in or one of his guys will spot me through the window. Anyways, the guy’s receptionist has been nice about it and says if I tell her where I am, she’ll send someone to pick me up as soon as he arrives.”
I said, “Really. Well, that’s accommodating. What’s she think is going on?”
“Beats me. I didn’t tell her nothing.” He tapped his head to show he was using his brains. “So, now what do we do?”
“Transform you into a girl and get you out of here.” I turned to June. “I need you to call a taxi. Tell the dispatcher the pickup’s a blond woman in a camel-hair coat who’ll be on Hidalgo at the side entrance to the Butler Hotel.”
“How soon?”
“Ten minutes. And tell the cabbie to wait in case it takes longer than we think.”
“I’ll leave you two alone,” June said as she moved away.
I made Pinky perch on the toilet lid while I took the wig from my head and secured it to his. He didn’t look that bad as a blonde, though his wide shoulders and swarthy complexion gave him the look of a middle-aged Miami transvestite. Once he slipped into the camel-hair coat, most of his tattoos disappeared. I thought he’d pass muster from afar. With luck, he’d be able to walk the half block, slip in the hotel’s front entrance, and out the side door.
I wrote Rosie’s address on the back of the receipt from the wig shop and gave him thirty bucks in cash. “I’ll call and tell her you’re coming. She’ll keep you out of sight until I get home. It won’t be until after dark so don’t get antsy on me. Any questions?”
“Can you call Dodie and tell her I’m okay? I know she’s worried about me.”
“That can wait. I talked to her a while ago and she’s fine.”
“She’ll feel better if she hears my voice.”
“Listen to me. Are you listening? Do not call her. She thinks the house is bugged and she may well be right. A phone conversation would be picked up.”
“I wouldn’t say where I was.”
“What if your home line has a trap on it?”
“Wouldn’t matter. I’d be quick. I could use a special code to let her know I’m safe.”
“How can you concoct a code without talking to her first?”
“I could ask about the parrot, which she knows we don’t have. I could say, ‘Is the parrot fine?’ and like that.”
“Pinky, please don’t make life any more complicated than it is. This is all beside the point. Dodie told me about the mug shots of her. Where’d you put the second set of photographs?”
He parted the front of his shirt slightly, and I could see a portion of the manila envelope. “I’m not letting go of this until I hand it over.”
“Good plan.”
Shyly, he patted the sides of the blond wig. “How do I look?”
“Adorable,” I said. “Here’s the drill. I’m going to stroll out the front door and go around the corner to the parking lot where I’ll pick up my car. You wait five or six minutes and then leave and head in the opposite direction. You know where the Butler is?”
“Sure. It’s up on the corner.”
“Perfect. You take the cab to Rosie’s and stay put. Her husband will bring you to my place after dark. Are we clear?”
“I guess.”
“All right. Once I leave, you wait…”
“I got it already. Five minutes and I hoof it up to the Butler.”
“Don’t hoof it. Stroll. See you later.”