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glanced at a stack of porn tapes that had been returned and needed to be reshelved. One title seemed to interest him. He put it aside. He said, “That guy who was killed. He was that old guy you liked, right?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I don’t remember him too good. Was he cool?”
    She leaned on the counter, playing with her bracelets. She looked outside. The city had these weird orange streetlamps. It was close to eleven P.M. but the light made the city look like afternoon during a partial eclipse. “Yeah, he was cool.” She dug under the counter and found the bootleg tape she’d made for Kelly. Turned it over in her hands. “Also, he was kind of different.”
    “Like, what? Weird?”
    “Not weird the way
you
mean.”
    “What, uhm, way do I mean?”
    She didn’t answer. A thought was in her mind. “But there was one thing weird about him. Not him personally. He was the nicest old guy you’d ever want to meet. Polite.”
    “So what was weird about him?”
    “Well, he’d only been a member for a month.”
    “And?”
    “He rented the same movie a lot.”
    “A lot?”
    Rune typed on the keyboard of the little Kaypro portable computer on the counter. Then she read from the screen. “Eighteen times.”
    “Wow,” Frankie said, “that’s weird.”
    “
Manhattan Is My Beat
,” Rune said.
    “Never heard of it. About a, like, reporter?”
    “A cop. Walking a beat. One of those old-time cop movies from the forties. You know, all the men wearing those big drapey double-breasted suits and have their hair slicked back. Nobody really famous in it. Dana Mitchell, Charlotte Goodman, Ruby Dahl.”
    “Who’re they?”
    “You wouldn’t know them. They’re not part of the Brat Pack. Anyway, the movie just came out on tape a month ago. I’m not surprised nobody was in a hurry to release it. I watched it but it wasn’t my style. I like the black and white though. I hate colorization. It’s a political issue with me.
    “Anyway, Mr. Kelly shows up the day after it’s released. We had a poster up in the window. The distributor sent it…. Uh, there it is, in the back….”
    Frankie glanced. “Oh, yeah, I remember it.”
    Rune continued. “He comes in and wants to rent it. He wasn’t a member so he asks about joining. Then— this
is
weirdness for you—he asks how he puts tapes in his TV. Can you believe it? He doesn’t know about VCRs! So I tell him if he doesn’t have a player he’s got to get one and I tell him where Audio Exchange and Crazy Eddie’s are. Well, he doesn’t have much money, I can tell, cause he goes, ‘Do you think they’ll take a check? See, I just moved and it doesn’t have my address on it….’ That kind of stuff. And I was thinking, yeah, right, the reason they won’t take the check isn’t the address, it’s that there’s no money in the account. So I tell him about this place on Canal where they have all kinds of used stuff and he can probably get a VCR for fifty bucks.”
    “Beta only, I’ll bet.” Frankie sneered.
    “No, they’ve got VHS. And he leaves and I thinkthat’s the last I’ll see of him. But the next day he’s back when the store opens and he says he found a player. And he joins and rents this movie he’s so interested in. Turns out he’s a real sweetheart, we bullshit some, talk movies….”
    “Yeah, your date,” Frankie observed. “I remember him.”
    “And he’s not flirting or anything. He’s just talking. Takes the film home. Eddie picks it up the next day. Okay, couple days later, he calls a delivery in. Rents something I don’t know what it is and what else?
Manhattan Is My Beat
again. This goes on for weeks.”
    Frankie nodded, his shaggy hair bobbing.
    “Christ,” Rune told him, “I feel so sorry for the guy— I picture him spending all his Social Security check on this stupid movie. I told him just to buy it. But you know Tony. How he marks up? He was charging almost two hundred. What a rip-off. So I tell Mr. Kelly I’m going to copy