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these broads do prefer an alias, especially if they have any ideas about selling more than just cigarettes. I’ll show the picture around.”
    I took the snapshot and tore it in two and put the half with the grinning Manny in my pocket. I assumed he’d want to remain anonymous rather than risk the dreaded horselaugh. I gave the other half to Perry, along with the ten bucks.
    â€œI’ll check back with you in a couple of days. Okay?”
    â€œSame time, same station. I should have your answer by then.”
    I went back to the car and took the coast road north, toward Malibu.

CHAPTER THREE
    T he next morning, I felt a lot better. First, I didn’t have a hangover; and second, I’d spent the night with Myrtle at her new digs on the beach. It was a small house, but cozy, with lots of glass doors that faced the ocean and let in the sea air. The house was really only one room so that everything was open. There were sea-grass rugs and rattan chairs and couches with flower-patterned cushions and a stone fireplace with some sort of still life over the mantel and views of the coastline with lights shining off the water. The bedroom was separated by a half wall, and the only interior door in the house was the bathroom. Myrtle was delightedwith the place and excited about her first day at the studio. She had spent most of the day with the publicity department, getting her life story explained to her.
    â€œMy real name is Yvonne Adorova but we shortened it to Adore to sound more American. I am a White Russian princess, and my family and I escaped from Russia during the Revolution. I was just a child then but old enough to remember and feel sad about it.”
    â€œDid you escape in a sleigh drawn by a troika while a pack of ravenous wolves was chasing you across the snow-covered steppes, gaining all the while as the horses grew tired until finally you barely made it to a peasant village and the wolves were afraid to come any closer?”
    â€œI don’t think so. They didn’t say anything about that.”
    â€œToo bad. You might suggest it to them.”
    â€œYes, that would be exciting.”
    â€œWhat happened to your family?”
    â€œThey’re still working on that part. They’re dead, of course, but they haven’t decided how it happened. They say they are leaning toward assassination by a Communist hip squad.”
    â€œThey probably said ‘hit squad.’”
    â€œOh. Yes, I think you’re right about that.”
    â€œMy condolences anyway.”
    â€œYes.” She became suddenly thoughtful. “You know, my real parents are also dead. It was an influenza epidemic. It came through my village and killed almost everyone. I don’t know how or why I survived. It was a very poor village in the mountains. Sanitation was a problem. And now, here I am in California where everything is beautiful and safe. All because of you.”
    â€œIt may be beautiful, but I’m not sure it’s all that safe. Of course, the sanitation is good. And remember, all I didwas give you a ride and introduce you to Ethel. You did the rest.”
    â€œSo you say. But I know better. Would you like some wine?”
    â€œShouldn’t you be drinking vodka, princess?”
    She made a face. “Vodka is nasty.”
    We had a wonderful evening. We grilled some fresh fish on the beach and drank a lot of wine and went for a naked moonlight swim and then to bed only slightly drunk, not drunk enough to take the edge off desire, and in the morning it was just like old times again, only better, and I began to think that half-in-love stuff might not be true after all, at least where I was concerned. Not that I was looking for it, but sometimes it finds you whether you’re looking or not. Only twenty-four hours before, I’d been mixing bourbon with self-pity, in equal measures. Now, things looked decidedly rosier. For a minute, I wondered if this feeling of