Myron didn't have a clue. “Pardon my sexual naivete, but could you explain?”

Big Cyndi scrunched her face in thought. It was not a pretty sight. “In part, it's what you might expect: men dress like women, women dress like men. But then sometimes a woman is just a woman and a man is just a man. Follow?”

Myron nodded. “Not even a little.”

“That's why it's called Take A Guess. You never know for sure. For instance, you might see a beautiful woman who is unusually tall with a platinum wig. So you figure it's a he-she. But-and this is what makes Take A Guess special-maybe it's not.”

“Not what?”

“A he-she. A transvestite or transsexual. Maybe it is indeed a beautiful woman who put on extra-high heels and a wig to confuse you.”

“And the reason for this is?”

“That's the fun of the place. The doubt. There's a sign inside, TAKE A GUESS: IT'S ABOUT AMBIGUITY, NOT ANDROGYNY.”

“Catchy.”

“But that's the idea. It's a place of mystery. You bring someone home. You think it's a beautiful woman or a handsome man. But until the pants are all the way down, you're never sure. People come dressed to fool. You just never know until-well, you saw The Crying Game.”

Myron made a face. “And this is a desirable thing?”

“If you're into that, sure.”

“Into what?”

She smiled. “Exactly.”

Myron nibbed the temples again. “So the patrons don't have a problem with”-he searched for the right word, but there wasn't one-“so a gay guy, for example, doesn't get pissed off when he finds out he brought home a woman?”

“It's why you go. The thrill. The uncertainty. The mystery.”

“Sort of the sexual equivalent of a grab bag.”

“Right.”

“Except in this case, you can really be surprised by what you grab.”

Big Cyndi considered that. ' “If you really think about it, Mr. Bolitar, there can be only one of two things.”

He was no longer so sure.

“But I like your grab bag analogy,” Big Cyndi continued. “You know what you're bringing to the party, but you have no idea what you're going to take home. One time a guy left with what he thought was an overweight woman. It turned out that it was a guy with a midget hiding under the dress.”

“Please tell me you're joking.”

Big Cyndi just looked at him.

“So,” Myron continued, “you, uh, frequent this place?”

“I've been a couple of times. But not recently.”

“Why not?”

“Two reasons. First, they compete with Leather-N-Lust. It's a different crowd, but we still draw from similar markets.”

Myron nodded. “The pervert pool.”

“They're not hurting anybody.”

“At least nobody who doesn't want to be hurt.”

She pouted, not a great look on a three-hundred-pound wrestler, especially without her mortarlike makeup. “Es-peranza is right.”

“About?”

“You can be very closed-minded.”

“Yeah, I'm a regular Jerry Falwell. So what's the second reason?”

She hesitated. “I'm obviously for sexual freedom. I don't care what you're doing as long as it's consensual. And I've done some wild things myself, Mr. Bolitar.” She looked straight at him. “Very wild.”

Myron cringed, fearing she might share details.

“But Take A Guess started drawing the wrong kind of crowd,” she said.

“Gee, that's surprising,” Myron said. “You'd think a place like that would be a natural for vacationing families.”

She shook her head. “You are so repressed, Mr. Bolitar.”

“Because I like to know my partner's gender before getting naked?”

“Because of your attitude. People like you cause sexual hang-ups. Society becomes sexually repressed-so repressed, in fact, that they cross the line between sex and violence, between playacting and real danger. They reach a stage where they get off by hurting people who do not want to be hurt.”

“And Take A Guess attracts that kind of crowd?”

“More than most.”

Myron sat back and rubbed his face with both hands. He started hearing brain clicks. “This might explain a few things,” he said.

“Like what?”

“Why Bonnie finally threw Clu out for good. It's one thing to have a string of girlfriends. But if Clu was frequenting a place like this, if he started leaning toward”- again, what would be the word?-“toward whatever. And if Bonnie found out, well, it would explain the legal separation.” He nodded to himself as he heard more internal clicks. “And it would explain her odd behavior today.”

“How so?”

“She made a point of asking me not to dig too deeply. She just wanted me to clear Esperanza and then drop the investigation.”

Big Cyndi nodded. “She was afraid this would get out.”

“Right. If something like this went public, what would it do to her kids?”

Another thought floating through Myron's brain got snagged on some jagged rock. He looked at Big Cyndi. “I assume that Take A Guess appeals mostly to bisexuals. I mean, if you're not sure what you're getting, who better than someone who wouldn't care?”

“More like ambisexuals,” Big Cyndi said. “Or people who want some mystery. Who want something new.”

“But bisexuals too.”

“Yes, of course.”

“How about Esperanza?”

Big Cyndi bristled. “What about her?”

“Did she frequent this place?”

“I wouldn't know, Mr. Bolitar. And I don't see the relevance.”

“I'm not asking because it gives me jollies. You want me to help her, right? That means digging where we don't want to dig.”

“I understand that, Mr. Bolitar. But you know her better than I do.”

“Not this side of her,” Myron said.

“Esperanza is a private person. I really don't know. She usually has a steady, but I don't know if she's gone there or not.”

Myron nodded. Didn't matter much. If Clu had been hanging out in such a place, it would give Hester Crim-stein more reasonable doubt. A rough trade place complete with a reputation for violence-it was a natural recipe for disaster. Clu could have brought home the wrong package. Or been the wrong package. And there was the cash to consider. Blackmail money? Did a customer recognize him? Threaten him? Videotape him?

Yep, lots of murky reasonable doubt.

And a good place to search for the elusive girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or in-between friend. He shook his head. It was not a question of the ethics or moral dilemma for Myron; deviancy simply confused him. Repugnancy aside, he didn't get it. Lack of imagination, he supposed.

“I'll have to pay the Take A Guess a visit,” he said.

“Not alone,” Big Cyndi said. “I'll go with you.”

Subtle surveillance was out. “Fine.”

“And not now. Take A Guess doesn't open until eleven.”

“Okay. We'll go tonight then.”

“I have just the outfit,” she said. “What are you going to go as?”

“A repressed heterosexual man,” he said. “All I'll have to do is slip on my Rockports.” He looked at the phone record again. “You have another number highlighted in blue.”

She nodded. “You mentioned an old friend named Billy Lee Palms.”

“This his number?”

“No. Mr. Palms doesn't exist anywhere. No phone listing. And he hasn't paid taxes in four years.”

“So whose number is this?”

“Mr. Palms's parents. Mr. Haid called them twice in the past month.”

Myron checked the address. Westchester. He vaguely remembered meeting Billy Lee's parents during a Family Day at Duke. He looked at his watch. It would take an hour to get there. He grabbed his coat and headed for the elevator.