“I got there around ten in the morning, after having stopped off at a diner for breakfast and time out to try and inject a streak of sanity into my gibbering mind. The doorman didn’t unbend until I had shown him my tin, then the look on his face said it confirmed all his worst suspicions. “Mr. Cordain is renting the penthouse, Lieutenant,” he said in a sepulchral voice. “Trouble?” I asked in a sympathetic response. “It’s none of my business, but the ladies don’t exactly act like ladi...es, if you get what I mean.” I nodded wisely. “Noisy parties, and like that?” “There’s been some complaints.” He pulled his admiral’s cap a little lower over his eyes. “I had to send one of them back yesterday morning. Found her wandering around the lobby, casual as you please, in just a flimsy little nightgown thing that barely came down over her middle. Transparent, too.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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