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Smarinsky
    volunteered.
    My legs felt shaky as we walked back to the elevator. We
    passed a dangerously high stack of folding chairs, then an open
    door. Two men in white jackets were sitting inside, working.
    “You know what those guys in there can do?” Smarinsky
    asked me. “Sometimes the body’s so shriveled up they can’t get
    a print, so they peel the skin off the hands and put it on, like a
    glove. They get a print that way. Gotta have an iron stomach,
    though.”
    The doors to the elevator closed. I’d planned to hold my
    breath until I was in the proximity of fresh air, but Smarinsky
    kept asking me questions.
    “What do you do for a living?”
    “Write books.”
    “You and the movie star an item?”
    “No.”
    “You are a resident of?”
    “West Hollywood.”
    I couldn’t tell if he was interrogating me or just trying to
    keep me company.
    It was six in the morning by the time Rafe was done. We
    stepped outside. The sun was blaring, but it wasn’t as bright as
    the flashbulbs popping in our faces.
    “Fucking vultures,” Rafe said. “They never leave me alone.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “I used to love her.”
    “I figured.”
    37
    “Fuck.”
    “Let’s get out of here.”
    “Good idea.”
    “I’m driving,” I said, taking the keys out of his hand.
    “You’re buying.”
    CHAPTER
    FIVE
    Coffee still costs a nickel at Philippe’s, home of the
    French-dip sandwich, invented in 1918 when the orig-
    inal Philippe, who was French, was preparing a sandwich for a
    policeman and accidentally dropped the sliced roll into the
    drippings of a roasting pan.
    You couldn’t argue with the prices, not to mention the
    clientele, which was the polar opposite of starstruck: Amtrak
    riders stopping off on their way to Union Station across the
    street; electricians; municipal-court judges; housepainters. I may
    have detected a glimmer of recognition from the counterwoman
    who took our order, but she was too efficient to indulge in that
    kind of speculation. Rafe insisted he wasn’t hungry, but I or-
    dered pancakes for him, a hot pink pickled egg for me, and a
    coffee for each of us.
    We took our trays and walked to the back room, where we
    found an empty booth.
    40
    “I can’t eat yet,” he said after sitting down. “What the hell
    am I thinking? I have to call Will.” He stood up. “I left my
    phone in the car. I’ll call him from out there. Is that okay?”
    “Of course. Take your time.”
    I watched him go. His T-shirt was hanging off his shoul-
    ders. It looked a size bigger than it had the night before. Or
    maybe it was Rafe who looked a size smaller.
    When he was gone, I pulled out my phone and called Gam-
    bino at work. I knew he’d be there. He’s a robbery/homicide
    detective who takes his job very seriously. Lately, this has
    caused some problems, but that’s another story.
    I started crying the minute I heard his voice. When I was
    done crying, I was incoherent. When I was done being inco-
    herent, the story came out and it was so awful, I started crying
    again. Halfway through, Gambino announced that he was
    coming to get me, but I put my foot down. We’d had that par-
    ticular discussion before. And I wasn’t prepared to go—not
    yet. After the experience we’d just shared, Rafe needed me.
    And maybe I needed him, too. Gambino said he understood.
    I knew those weren’t just words. He didn’t say things he didn’t
    mean. There was a moment of silence and then Gambino got a
    call. He had to take it. He said he’d see me later at my place
    and not to worry, he was cooking, which was a mixed blessing.
    He was an excellent cook but not exactly efficient in the
    kitchen. I’d be cleaning for days.
    After we hung up, I walked across the sawdust-covered
    floor and studied the Dodger memorabilia on the wall. Then I
    sat back down, cut the pickled egg into quarters, then eighths,
    and tried to put the slices back together again. But I couldn’t
    make the yolks work.
    41
    Rafe came