Seduction in Death (In Death #13)(25)

"Have you slept with Charles yet?"

"What?" Peabody actually blushed. "No."

"Maybe you should. Maybe, I can't believe I'm having this conversation, maybe if you relieved some stress in that area you'd get your head settled right. Or something."

"We're... Charles and I are friends."

"Yeah. You're friends with a very high-priced sexual professional. Seems to me he'd be willing to help you out."

"It's not the same as loaning me twenty till payday." Then she sighed. "But maybe I should think about it."

"Think fast. We're going to see him."

Peabody came straight up out of the seat. "What? Now?"

"Officially," Eve said and started the car again. "He's an expert on sex, right? Let's see what the expert knows about sexual illegals."

The sexual expert had the morning off. He answered the door wearing blue silk pajama bottoms.

As man-candy went, he was a caloric binge. Eve thought it was easy to see why he had so many clients paying for a nibble.

"Lieutenant, Delia. What an attractive sight to wake up to."

"Sorry to roust you," Eve told him. "Got a minute?"

"For you, Lieutenant Sugar, I have hours." He stepped back to let them in. "Why don't we have breakfast? I've got crepes stocked in the AutoChef."

"Rain check," Eve said before Peabody could even nod. "You alone or do you have a client sleeping you off?"

"All alone." The sleepiness began to clear. "Is this official?"

"We're on a case, and I think you may be helpful in certain aspects of it."

"Was it anyone I knew?"

"Bankhead, Bryna. Downtown address."

"The woman who jumped out of her window? Wasn't that suicide?"

"Homicide," Eve corrected. "The media will have that this morning."

"Why don't you sit down? I'll make coffee."

"Peabody, why don't you make it?" Eve chose a seat in the well-appointed living area. Sex, when it was done right, paid well. "The questions I ask you, any portion of this investigation I may discuss with you, is confidential."

"Understood." He sat across from her. "I take it I'm not a suspect this time."

"I'm considering you an expert civilian consultant." She took out her recorder. "Officially."

"Then I assume sex reared its ugly head."

"Consult with Monroe, Charles, licensed companion," Eve announced. "Initiated by Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and on her authority as primary of casefile H-78926B. Also attending, Peabody, Officer Delia. Mr. Monroe, are you willing to consult in this matter?"

He managed to keep his face nearly sober. "Whatever I can do to help as a concerned citizen."

"What do you know about the illegal substance known on the street as Whore?"

Instantly his expression changed. "Did someone use Whore on that poor woman?"

"The question, Charles?"

"Christ." He got to his feet, was pacing as Peabody came back with a coffee tray. "Thanks, honey." He took a cup, drank slowly. "It was already illegal by the time I started training," he continued. "But I heard plenty about it. I took a seminar in my early days. Sexual Deviants: Dos and Don'ts. That kind of thing? Illegals of any kind were a big don't. You can get your license pulled. Of course, that doesn't mean that certain... aids aren't employed by some LCs or clients. But not this one."

"Why?"

"First, since it was once used to make trainees more malleable, we'll say, it has a very bad rep in my business. The sex-slave gambit is fine as a role-playing game, but not in reality. We're professional sexual companions, Dallas. We're not whores or puppets."

"You've never known anyone who used it?"

"Some of the older pros. You hear stories, and most of them involve abuse of one kind or another. Experimentation. Dose the LC trainee with it, then bang away. Like we were goddamn guinea pigs," he said in disgust.

"Still, it's an elitist substance. Any connoisseurs you know of?"

"No, but I can check around."

"Carefully," Eve warned. "What about Rabbit?"

He lifted one shoulder, rather elegantly. "Only amateurs and perverts use Rabbit, on themselves or a partner. In my circle it's considered both tacky and insulting."

"Dangerous?"

"If you're stupid or careless, certainly. You don't mix it with alcohol or any other stimulant. And you don't want to overdose. ODs are extremely rare because the shit costs more than liquid gold."

"You know dealers who handle it? Clients who use it?"

He stared, then looked pained. "Jesus, Dallas."

"I won't use your name."

He shook his head, then walked to the window, lifted the privacy shade. Light washed in.

"Charles, it's really important." Peabody stepped up to him, touched his arm. "We wouldn't ask if it wasn't."

"I don't do illegals, Delia. You know that."

"I know."

"It's not up to me to judge clients who do. I'm no one's moral center."