I got Grovers on the phone. He was in.
“How’s business, Grovers?”
“Steady,” he said, “no recession here.”
“Your case with Jeannie Nitro, it’s closed. She won’t be bothering you any more. I’ll mail you a bill for final charges.”
“Final charges? You trying to stiff me?”
“Grovers, I got this alien babe off you. Now you pay up.”
“All right, all right…but how’d you do it?”
“Trade secret, baby.”
“All right, I suppose I should be grateful.”
“Don’t suppose, just be. And pay your bill unless you want to be using one of your pine boxes. Or, do you prefer walnut?”
“Well, let’s see…” he began.
I sighed and hung up.
I put my feet up on the desk. I was making progress. Now all I had to do was to nail Cindy Bass’s ass and locate the Red Sparrow. Of course, Jeannie Nitro was now my problem. I was my own client. But Celine and Grovers were history. In a sense I was beginning to feel truly professional. But before I could relax, Lady Death entered my mind again. She was still there.
The phone rang, I picked it up. It was Lady Death.
“I’m still here, Belane.”
“Why don’t you take a vacation, babe?”
“I can’t. I enjoy my work too much.”
“Listen, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you just work the earth?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, does your work include, say, uh…space aliens?”
“Of course. Space aliens, worms, dogs, fleas, lions, spiders, you name it.”
“That’s nice to know.”
“What’s nice to know?”
“That you work space aliens.”
“You bore me, Belane.”
“I’m glad of that, baby.”
“Listen, I’ve got some work to do…”
“Just answer me one question…”
“Maybe. What is it?”
“How do you kill a space alien?”
“No problem.”
“A bullet won’t do it. What do you use?”
“That’s a secret of the trade, Belane.”
“You can tell me, baby, my lips will be forever sealed.”
“Fat boy,” she said just before hanging up, “I might take care of that for you.”
I put the phone down and put my feet back on the desk. Christ, 6 space aliens on the prowl and enlisting me for the Cause. I should notify the authorities. Sure, lot of good that would do. I had to solve it myself. Seemed damned tough. Maybe I ought to sit on it for a while. I uncapped the vodka and had a little nip. After all, there was still the Red Sparrow and Cindy Bass. I took out a coin and flipped it: heads, Red Sparrow; tails, Cindy Bass. It came up tails. I smiled, leaned back in my chair and thought about her: Cindy Bass. Nailing it.