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Looks good on you."
    "It's a righteous hat."
    He smiled. "Live up to it, Babe."
    I pushed through the double glass doors into the lobby. I was about to take the stairs when the elevator opened and Mrs. Bestler leaned out. "Going up," she said. "Step to the rear of the car."
    Mrs. Bestler was eighty-three and had an apartment on the third floor. When things got boring she played elevator operator.
    "Morning, Mrs. Bestler," I said. "Second floor."
    She hit the two button and eyeballed me. "Looks like you've been working. Catch any bad guys today?"
    "Helped a friend clean an apartment."
    Mrs. Bestler smiled. "What a good girl." The elevator stopped and the doors opened. "Second floor," Mrs. Bestler sang out. "Better dresses. Designer suits. Ladies' lounge."
    I let myself into my apartment and went straight to the phone machine and its blinking red light.
    I had two messages. The first was from Morelli, and it was for dinner. Miss Popularity, that's me.
    "Meet you at Pino's at six," Morelli said.
    Morelli's invitations always produced mixed emotions. The initial reaction was a sexual rush at the sound of his voice, the rush was followed by a queasy stomach while I considered his motives, and the queasy stomach eventually gave way to curiosity and anticipation. Ever the optimist.
    The second message was from Mabel. "A man just came asking about Fred," Mabel said. "Something about a business deal, and he needed to find Fred right away. I explained how I couldn't help him, but I said you were on the job, so he shouldn't worry. I thought you might want to know."
    I called Mabel back and asked who the man was and what he looked like.
    "He was about my height," she said. "And he had brown hair."
    "Caucasian?"
    "Yes. And now that you mention it, he didn't give me his name."
    "What kind of business deal was he talking about?"
    "I don't know. He didn't say."
    "Okay," I said. "Let me know if he bothers you again."
    I checked in with the office to see if there were any new FTAs and was told no luck. I called my best friend, Mary Lou, but she couldn't talk because her youngest kid was sick with a cold, and the dog had eaten a sock and had just pooped it out on the living room rug.
    I was contemplating Rex's soup can with new appreciation when the phone rang.
    "I got it," Grandma said. "I got a name for you. I was at the beauty parlor this morning getting a set, and Harriet Schnable was there for a perm, and she said she heard at bingo that Fred's been paying calls on Winnie Black. Harriet isn't one of those to make something of nothing."
    "Do you know Winnie Black?"
    "Only through the seniors' club. She goes on the bus trip to Atlantic City sometimes. Her and her husband, Axel. I guess that's how Fred meets most of his honeys these days . . . at the seniors' meetings. A lot of those women are real hot to trot, if you know what I mean. I even got Winnie's address," Grandma said. "I called Ida Lukach. She's the club's membership chairman. She knows everything."
    I took down the address and thanked Grandma.
    "Personally, I'm hoping it was aliens," Grandma said. "But then I don't know what they'd want with an old fart like Fred."
    I settled my new hat on my brown bear cookie jar and traded my jeans for a beige suit and heels. I didn't know Winnie Black, and I thought it wouldn't hurt to look professional. Sometimes people responded better to a suit than to jeans. I grabbed my shoulder bag, locked the apartment, and joined Mrs. Bestler in the elevator.
    "Did he find you?" Mrs. Bestler wanted to know.
    "Did who find me?"
    "There was a man looking for you. Very polite. I let him off on your floor about ten minutes ago."
    "He never knocked on my door. I would have heard him. I was in the kitchen almost the whole time."
    "Isn't that odd." The elevator door opened to the lobby, and Mrs. Bestler smiled. "First floor. Ladies' handbags. Fine jewelry."
    "What did the man look like?" I asked Mrs. Bestler.
    "Oh, dear, he was big. Very big. And dark-skinned.