"You're a real tough guy, Mr. Chapman. You think the commissioner won't take my call? You think he won't do what Joe Berk tells him to do with some dumb mick cop? Get that nurse up here to pick up my money."

"Tell me how you met that girl. Don't you understand I'm not getting out of here until you've done that?"

Berk held on to his pajama bottoms and reached over for the portable phone. Mike got to it first and tossed it out of the room onto the top of the stairs, listening to it bounce to the bottom and settle on the floor.

"Say you got to the phone and let's pretend you dialed nine one-one. I'm what you got, Joe. I'm the friendly neighborhood guy on the beat. You're off the hook on the age thing, Joe. Nothing to worry about there. Lucy gave it up to the doctor. She was nineteen last winter. She's over the age of consent."

Berk picked up his head and looked at the expression on Mike's face. Mike's bluff seemed to have found its mark.

"Who's nineteen? That-that kid today-the one you call Lucy?"

"What do you call her?"

"I don't know if we're even talking about the same girl." Berk had flopped back onto the side of the bed. The slightest bit of exertion- his argument with Mike-had exhausted him in his already weakened condition.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Joe. That great-looking young kid who had some kind of a future twenty-four hours ago is going to wake up in intensive care tomorrow with two brand-new titanium hips and legs with more screws in them than you've got hundred-dollar bills. I want somebody who cares about her to be standing there when she opens her eyes. That's all I'm looking for here."

"Look somewheres else. I never laid a glove on her."

Mike pulled a chair up under himself, turned it around so he could lean against the back of it, and and faced Joe Berk close up. "Where'd she come from? Why'd she end up in the Elk? That's worse than the ninth circle of hell, for Chrissakes."

Berk rolled onto his back and leaned against the two pillows stacked behind him. "Who gives a shit where she comes from? I don't know how they find me, but they do. Maybe it's a setup."

"What kind of setup, Joe?" Mike said, softening his tone. "You looking at Coop? There's nothing you can say to shock her, trust me. She's seen and heard just about everything."

I was slowly moving back to the far wall, knowing that Berk would be more likely to disclose something he found embarrassing if I faded out of the room.

"She doesn't look as tough as you," Berk said, lifting his head to stare at me.

"They got a whole wing at Attica named in her honor, Joe. A pavilion, packed to the gills. SRO in your business. Full of the most depraved men you'd ever hope not to meet in a dark alley. And they didn't wind up there because of Coop's charm. Where most women have a heart? She's got a pair of steel balls. That's how come you know when she gets excited-you can hear them clanging against each other from miles away. Feel free to speak your mind in front of her. I always do."

Berk's mouth twisted in a half-smile.

"You were telling me you think someone set you up. You mean, with Lucy?"

"I got a weakness for women. Not babies, not teenagers, not little girls. I like the ladies. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

Mike was silent. He probably had the same visual I did, which made the thought of getting anywhere near Joe Berk's satin pajamas repugnant at any age.

"And the truth is, the ladies like Joe Berk," he said, raising the same half-smile as he patted his belly. "A good-looking young guy like you might find it hard to believe they throw themselves at me, but they do. I know, I know-you're thinking it's the money or the casting couch or the connections. Lemme tell you, Mr. Chapman, women are suckers for guys with a lot of class and a lot of clout."

"Lucy DeVore, Joe. How'd you meet her?"

"Dancing. I saw her perform in something, a month or two ago. Somebody introduced her to me after the rehearsal and bingo, she was looking for my help."

"Who made the introduction? Dancing in what?"

Joe's head was back against the pillow now, his eyes closed. "I said a rehearsal, in a studio. Day in, day out, that's what I do everyday to make a buck. You expect me to remember what house, what stage, what the tune was? It don't work like that, sonny."

"She's pretty striking looking. Hard to forget that long platinum hair, longer legs."

"What kind of stupid are you, Chapman? She's platinum this month because that's the name of the show she wants to be in. I met her, she was something else. Maybe dark-haired, maybe red. If she was blond, I might have shtupped her. I might have given her a run for her money."

"Joe, look me in the eye. You telling me you had a shot at that sexy kid and didn't even make a stab at it?"

"May my late wife rest in peace. Izzy Berkowitz, too. Nothing."

"What kind of help did she want?"

"What they all want. Put her in a show, make her a star. Hey, she was practically at the end of her rope when I met her. Back-to-back auditions, with every unemployed gypsy in the business showing up."

"Was she living at the Elk then?"

"I don't make house calls, detective. I don't know where she was living. You'd leave this place if you owned it?" Berk said, waving his hand in a circle around the room. "They come to me, Chapman."

"Did you give her money?"

"Yeah, I gave her a few hundred bucks. Told her to get a decent meal, buy some clean clothes."

"For nothing in return, no reason at all?"

"You the only one that gets to ask questions, Chapman? I'm just the answer man?"

"Your turn, Joe. Ask away."

"You're so interested in my love life. Lemme ask-you and Ms. Cooper here-you two an item?"

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing out loud. Joe Berk stopped Mike in his tracks and seemed pleased to have done it.

"Like you said, Joe, the broads like guys with class and clout. I come up short on both."

"C'mon. You're a handsome kid, full head of hair, you're built like an athlete, and you got that kind of John Wayne swagger about you. You might even be smart-how the hell do I know. What's wrong with you, Ms. Cooper?"

I walked up behind Mike's chair and tousled his hair. "I've tried everything in the book, Mr. Berk. He just won't give me a tumble. I'll have to come back and get some pointers from you when you're feeling better."

"Think, Joe. Anything Lucy might have told you that would help as with her?" Mike had warmed up the old guy, now he wanted results.

"I've given you all the help I can. How do you figure Rinaldo Vicci comes into the act? You think he represents street urchins? I know my niece won't consider the girl for a role if I make the call, so I told Vicci to take her to the audition. He talks out of both sides of his mouth. See if either stream of his bullshit makes sense."

Maybe if Mike pulled on the fringe of Vicci's cashmere scarf Rinaldo would remember that Lucy DeVore got to him directly from Joe Berk. Now I had to figure why Vicci had lied to me about that.

The nurse was in the doorway of the room, tapping the face of her watch to signal that she was about to cut short our visit.

Mike stood up and swung the chair back into place. He reached for the plastic drinking cup on the bedside table that Berk had been sipping from and crumpled it in his hand, tucking it in his pocket. "Sleep on it, Joe. Anything comes to mind and you don't want to bother your pal the commissioner tomorrow, give me a ring. By the time Lucy's out of the anesthesia, she'll tell us the rest of the story."

Berk cocked his head and opened one eye to look at Mike. "Fairy tales, detective. Little girls make up stories like they were fairy tales. Watch out for that."

I was headed for the staircase when I heard Mike tell Berk he was still working on the murder investigation of Natalya Galinova. "This patron of hers, Hubert Alden, you know him, too?"