"Honest to God?" she said.

I nodded.

"You got a gun?"

I nodded.

"I don't believe you."

I opened my coat a little so she could see.

"Jesus;" she said, "you don't have to flash me."

Her tequila sunrise had disappeared again. I bought her another one.

"Is it like on TV?" Sandy said.

"Exactly," I said. "A lot of times I send my stunt double on the hard stuff."

"You working on a case or you got a thing for college girls?"

"Both," I said. Sandy laughed.

"Well, I'm one," she said.

"A case, or a college girl?" I said.

"Both," she said and laughed.

It was a full-out laugh, but no one except Sandy and I could hear it, because the room was full of people talking and laughing at peak capacity. Sandy was wearing jeans and a white tee-shirt under a gray blazer. She had strong breasts, and she brushed them against me as we talked. I didn't want to make too much of that. The place was so crowded it might have been inadvertent. Either way there was nothing wrong with it.

"Did you know Melissa Henderson?" I said.

"Girl that got killed? That the case you're working on?"

"Yes."

Sandy stared at me for a minute.

"I thought that was all over. They got some black guy for it."

"I'm sort of tying up the loose ends," I said. "Make sure it was really him."

"I didn't know her well," Sandy said. "But, you know, I saw her around."

"She have a roommate?"

"I don't know."

"You know Glenda Baker?"

"Girl that saw it? No, not really, she was a senior when I was a freshman. She's graduated by now."

"Who would have known Melissa well?" I said.

"She was a Phi Gam," Sandy said. "I assume the girls in the house would know about her."

"See any of them here?"

She turned on her barstool and scanned the room. Her jeans were tight over her thighs.

"No," she said. "But they never come here anyway."

"Why not."

"They're not fun like me. Phi Gams're all Legacies. Their mother went here, you know? and their grandmamma, and their aunt Foofy."

"They have a house on campus?" I said.

"Oh sure. Far end of the quadrangle, opposite the chapel."

We were squeezed close by the crowd. She studied my face.

"What happened to your nose?" she said.

"It's been broken a couple times."

"And you got like, what, scars, I guess, around your eyes."

"I used to fight," I said.

"Box, you mean. Like a prize fighter?"

"Yeah," I said.

She reached up and squeezed my bicep. I flexed automatically.

"You must have been a pretty good one," she said.

"I was."

"You ever like a champion or anything?"

"No."

"How come?"

"Pretty good," I said, "is not the same as very good."

She drank some more. Her breasts were now pressing steadily on my arm.

"You ever go to college?" she said.

"Yes."

"What'd you study?" she said.

"How to run back kicks," I said.

She smiled at me.

"You're a funny guy," she said.

"Everybody says that."

"You're kind of old for me," she said.

"Everybody says that, too."

"But I like you," she said as if I hadn't spoken.

"Well, I like you too, Sandy."

She stopped and looked hard at my face. "You're kidding me, aren't you?"

"I kid everybody a little," I said.

She thought about that.

"You want to go someplace?" she said.

"And?" I said.

"And have sex," she said.

"That's a very nice offer," I said. "But Susan Silverman and I have agreed to have sex only with each other."

Sandy's face was very close to mine in the crowded room. She had a wide mouth and a lot of teeth. She had turned in her seat so that she had one thigh on each side of my leg. Her chest was against my arm. In another minute we wouldn't have to go anywhere to have sex.

"You're not kidding, are you?"

"No."

She stared at me some more.

"Well," she said. "Goddamn. You are a funny guy."

"Yeah," I said. "Everyone always says it just that way, too."

Chapter 15

IT HAD STARTED to get dark as I walked across the leafy campus. It was a nice fall evening with just enough coolness to make my jacket feel useful. The campus was empty, and I was woefully out of place on it. I had a momentary vision of myself, a middle-aged man with a broken nose and a thick neck and a gun on his hip walking alone, remote below the darkened sky.

The Phi Gam house was a big brick house of Georgian design. The front door led into a foyer. To the right was a living room. To the left was something that appeared to be a library. Straight ahead a stairway ascended to the next floor. There were half a dozen young women in the living room. The library was empty. All of the young women turned and looked at me when I came in.

I said, "Hello."

Several of them said, "Hi."

One of them said, "Are you looking for somebody?"

They all had the quality of voice kids that age use when they're talking to somebody's parent. I walked into the living room and sat on the arm of a couch. There was a big television set on one wall. The girls were watching Hard Copy.

"My name is Spenser," I said. "I'm a detective and I'd like to talk with you about Melissa Henderson."

One of them said, "Melissa?"

"Yes, did you know her?"

"Sure, she lived here."

The girl doing the talking had on a black tee-shirt and gray sweatpants. She was dark haired, dark skinned, wore no shoes, and her toenails were painted red.

A pale blond woman said, "How do we know you're a detective?"

The dark girl said, "What the hell else would he be, Kim? Coming in here asking about Melissa?"

Kim was sticking to her guns.

"I think he should show us some identification," she said. "You know what Mrs. Cameron said."

Several of the girls groaned. Kim was apparently the sole law-and-order candidate in the group.

"Mrs. Cameron?" I said.

The dark girl said, "She's the housemother. She gave us all a big talk about how we had to be careful about people coming around after Melissa was killed."

"Why?"

"People would be poking around, she said, making trouble."

"What kind of people?" I said.

Another girl spoke.

"Like you," she said and we all laughed except Kim, who was looking severe. Severe is not easy for a twenty-year-old kid.

I said, "Don't hurt my feelings, now. But what's wrong with me?"

"Not a thing," the dark-haired girl answered. "I don't think Mrs. Cameron knows why we're supposed to be careful. She's just doing what Old Lady Corcoran told her."

"Old Lady Corcoran being?"

"The dean."

"Oh, her," I said.

And we all laughed again, except Kim.

"So what was Melissa like?" I said.

"Crazy," the other girl said. She had on a man's white shirt and blue cotton gym shorts. There were two big pink rollers in her hair.