Death of a Blue Movie Star

She found Danny Traub's office right up the hallway. She walked in, closed the door behind her. She glanced around quickly-at the walls done in Ace Home Center wood paneling, the big fake-ebony desk, more plants, a leather couch.

And two file cabinets.

Rune started through the first one.

She was looking for evidence. A piece of wire. A book on explosives. A letter from Shelly telling him he was a son of a bitch. ABible, where Traub might've gotten the quote about the angels destroying the earth… Anything that might link him to the bombing.

Physical evidence. That's what Healy'd said she needed for probable cause.

She didn't find any. Just contracts, correspondence. Just like any other businessman would keep in his office.

She turned to the second cabinet and started through it. This one contained more contracts and legal documents. She didn't find anything significant until she got to the L's and saw the file labeled Shelly Lowe.

But she didn't have a chance to read it because just then the door swung open and Danny Traub walked inside.

He froze. Then recovered. He swung the door shut and, never one to neglect his invisible audience, said, "Well, this kiddo's looking in my drawers. Wonder if she's found anything interesting."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Rune closed the file cabinet, checking distances, checking exits. She was on the fourth floor. That was forty feet. Would a jump through the window kill her? Might.

Traub stepped toward her, shaking his head. "Gosh, here we are in New York, crime capital of the world… I mean, there are people from Iowa hold on to their wallets when they flyover New York in an airplane. This city's got such a bad rep, I can't believe it."

"I was just-"

"And what do we have here? A young lady stealing ^iles! My God! Does she realize that those manila folders cost a couple cents each? Steal a hundred thousand of them-"

"I was-"

"-and she could buy herself a set of Tupperware. Or a Big Mac feast for her and her friends. Trying to fence them though's a little tricky…" The smile faded. The audience was gone. "Okay. What the fuck you doing here?"

He walked over to where she was standing and lifted the file out of her hands. Glanced at the name on the folder. He nodded knowingly. Tossed it back into the cabinet.

As he was turning to her Rune dropped to her knees and pulled the tear gas canister out of her purse.

But Traub moved faster. He grabbed the cylinder, ripped it out of her hand and shoved her into the couch. He looked at it closely, amused, it seemed. Rune sat up. "What's this all about? And don't gimme this cute Nancy Drew shit. I had a fucking bomb take out my star and a floor of my company. I'm not in the mood."

Rune didn't say anything. Traub pointed the tear gas spray at her face.

Remembering the terrible sting, she cringed, looked away.

"Answer me."

Breathlessly she said, "You didn't tell me you had a policy on Shelly Lowe." He frowned. "A policy?" "An insurance policy."

"That's right. I didn't. But you didn't ask me if I had one, now, did you?"

"It seems like that'd be a pretty normal thing to mention, I tell you I'm doing a film about one of your stars." Traub glanced again at the tear gas, weighed it in his hand. "You're asking all this shit for your film? Is that it?" He leaned up against the door. Rune saw his muscles stand out, sinewy and pale. He reminded her of one of the flying monkeys inThe Wizard of Oz -the characters that scared her the most, even more than the Wicked Witch. "The police know I'm here."

Traub laughed. "That's like on D-Day, yelling to the Germans: 'Ike knows I'm here.' " He looked her over and the motion of his eyes was like his tongue coursing over her body. She pulled away from him, crossed her arms, glanced down at the desk for paperweights. There was a letter opener she might go for.

"So, you think I killed Shelly, do you? That I planted a bomb so I'd get the insurance money."

"I didn't say that."

Traub paced. Intermission was over; he was looking around once more. "That's pretty good detective work this cookie's done, don't you think? She's a star, she's a regular little Sherlock Holmes. Well, you got me, honey. Yep, yep. The insurance company paid off. I got myself a check for five hundred thousand dollars."

Rune didn't answer.

Traub set the tear gas down. He looked at Rune, then took a key out of his pocket and walked behind his desk. Rune leaned forward, putting her weight on the balls of her feet. He was going for a gun. He could just shoot her like a burglar and the police wouldn't do anything.

Traub glanced at her. "On your mark, get set… I don't think she can make it in time."

He grinned and pulled out the black pistol.

Enjoyed the sight of her eyes widening.

"Here's a present for our little Ms. Detective."

Rune winced. When it looked like he was going to pull the trigger she'd just dive forward, grab the tear gas and hope for the best.

Then Traub's other hand emerged with a piece of paper.

Neither of them moved for a moment.