A silence hung in the air between them.
Doobie: Well?
Chas: I’ll give you my name on one condition.
Doobie: What’s that?
Chas: That you give me yours. After all, we almost had sex this afternoon. That makes us pretty intimate.
Doobie: I’ve had more than almost sex with lots of men, Chas, and I’ve never given any of them my RL name.
Chas: Yes, but none of them ever beat you at chess.
Doobie: That’s true.
She appeared to think about that for some moments.
Doobie: Okay, you first.
Chas: Michael Kapinsky.
Doobie: And an address?
Chas: I live in Corona Del Mar, Newport Beach, California, Doobs. That’s as much I’m telling you. Oh, and I’m ex-directory, so you won’t find me in the phone book. Your turn.
Doobie: Gillian MacCormack.
Chas: Scottish?
Doobie: Irish. LOL. And French. What a mix, eh? And before you ask, you weren’t far out in guessing what side of the country I live on.
Chas: California?
Doobie: Way up north. Little town called Auburn. Not far from Sacramento. And an easy drive to Napa and Sonoma.
Chas: You like your wines, then?
Doobie Littlething smiles.
Doobie: I’ve got a glass in my hand as we speak, Chas. But I’m going to have to finish it and go.
Chas: Oh. Commitments RL?
Doobie: Commitments SL. I’m due on stage for a couple of hours of pole dancing at Sinful Seductions. If I don’t show I’ll lose the job. But if you need me, just send an IM. Okay?
Chas: Sure.
And she was gone.
Michael sat back and watched the sun starting to dip toward the west. In a few short hours, his time would be gone, wasted and lost. And he would be face-to-face with mob retribution.
He tried Janey’s cellphone again and hung up when he got the answering service. Then he phoned the office. Someone told him that she’d gone home feeling sick. He frowned. It had to have been an excuse for getting her out of the office. But he phoned her home anyway.
“Hi, this is Janey. Either I’m not here right now, or I’m wa-ay too busy to talk to you. Leave a message, and if you’re someone I like I might get back to you.”
This time Michael decided to leave a message. “Janey, it’s Michael. Where the hell are you? Call me. Whether you like me or not.” He hung up, and sat gazing into space. This was frustrating. Why hadn’t she called him back? He got up, wandered across his office, and stepped out on to the terrace. He took a deep breath. The way it seemed to him now, either Wicked Wilson was the murderer or he himself had been killed for his gun. But whoever had it was using it to kill AVs for the money in their accounts. Money that shouldn’t have been there. Secret or stolen money. So it had to be somebody with access to that kind of information. But it still made no sense to him that the killer would have put three million into Chas’ account, unless it really was just some kind of horrible mistake.
But, then, Janey had said she’d found a connection, something that linked Smitts, Mathews, and Chas. It seemed that the more he knew, the more baffling it all became.
A ching drew his attention to the computer, and he went back into his office to sit down at his desk. Chas was still lounging in Twist’s office crossing and uncrossing his legs. There was an IM waiting for him.
Chas opened up his dialogue box. The IM was from someone called Dionysus Winestock.
Dionysus: Hi, I need your help to find out if my partner is cheating on me.
Chas sighed. He had enough problems of his own without worrying about taking on someone else’s. But, then again, what else was he going to do while he waited for Janey to call? He was trapped in a frustrating limbo, somewhere between the real and the virtual worlds. He desperately felt that he should be doing something but had no idea what. And the illusion of safety in SL was far stronger than the very real fear that awaited him in RL. There was almost a comfort in it. An escape.
Chas: What’s the story, Dio?
Dionysus: I need a good private eye.
Chas: You’re talking to one. How can I help you?
Dionysus: Well, I fear my SL wife is messing around a bit. But you should know, straight off, that we are swingers.
Chas: Swingers?
Dionysus: Yeh. We swap partners for sex. Twosomes, threesomes, group sex, you name it. We’re members of a swingers’ club called Echangiste.
Chas: So why are you worried about your wife messing about?
Dionysus: I don’t mind if she has sex, Chas. But the romance and lies, I can’t handle. I just need to confirm my suspicions. There’s another couple we know from the club. We’re good friends. We’ve all had sex together. But I think she’s having an affair with him.
If Chas could have scratched his head, he would. Sex was fine, but romance was taboo.
Chas: Have you asked her outright?
Dionysus: I actually caught her at it by using a spy device. But she says it’s all over now. I just need that confirmed. The guy’s called Crompton Nightly. He and his SL wife, Tab, have an apartment at Shyland.
Chas: Is that where you think he and your wife are conducting their affair?
Dionysus: No. Too risky. I think they might be taking sex rooms at the club, and since I found her out, they might be using alternative AVs.
Chas: Any idea what their alts are called?
Dionysus: Not sure about Crom. But I’m almost certain she’s going under the name of Icy Fizzle.
Chas: So what do you want us to do?
Dionysus: Get me proof. A photograph. Or better still, log some dialogue. I know that’s hard if they only communicate in IM.
Chas: Well, can you get me an introduction to the club? What was it called... ?
Dionysus: Echangiste. No. You’ll have to join. And you have to be a couple to get membership.
Chas thought for a minute, focusing on everything he and Twist might need to know to get a foothold in the case.
Chas: Okay, listen, why don’t you set up a notecard? Write down everything that might be useful for me to know. All the names. Where your wife logs in. Landmarks for the club and the homes of any of the other people involved. Drop the notecard onto my profile, and I’ll take a look at it. I’ll get back to you if we think there’s anything we can do.
Dionysus Winestock sighs.
Dionysus: Well, I guess that’ll have to do. I’m kind of impatient to clear this up and move on. You know what I mean?
Chas: Sure, Dio. I’ll need to discuss this with my partner first, then we’ll be in touch just as soon as we can.
Dionysus: Okay. IM me. Bye.
Chas created a notecard himself and copied his dialogue with Dionysus into it to save for Twist. A couple of minutes later he received the notecard from Dionysus with the information he had requested. But before he had a chance to read it, a blue window flashed on and off to tell him that Twist O’Lemon was online. His heart skipped a beat.