The Temporary Detective

Chapter Twenty-One

"Okay, but here's what I don't understand," Delphi said, attacking her toes with nail polish in her signature delphinium blue. "If you're putting in your diaphragm in the office bathroom—which, I agree, is weird to begin with—why would you take it out of its case at your desk? Why not bring the case with you into the bathroom?"

"Maybe she was doing the tampon trick?" Isobel suggested. "You know, where you slide a tampon up your sleeve so nobody sees it."

"I know, but a diaphragm? And what about the jelly? Did she put the tube up her sleeve too?"

"Not everybody uses the jelly. I had a roommate in college who refused. Her boyfriend used a condom too, and she felt it was overkill."

"Aren't you overlooking the obvious?" Delphi asked, admiring her left foot and turning her attention to her right.

"What's that?"

"Maybe she was taking it out."

"But Detective Kozinski said—"

"Why would she be straight with you?" asked Delphi shrewdly.

"Maybe she thinks I can help."

"Okay, but think about it. Taking the diaphragm out makes more sense on every level."

"Well," Isobel said thoughtfully, "it would explain the missing jelly tube, and it seems right that she could have had sex the night before with...whomever, it doesn't matter...and just forgot to take her diaphragm out until that moment."

"Exactly," Delphi said. "She suddenly remembered, and she didn't want to leave it in any longer because that can be dangerous. So she took it out and was probably going to wrap it in toilet paper and stash it up her sleeve until she got back to her desk to put it back in its case."

"I honestly can't imagine who in a million years would have wanted to sleep with her. And Nikki seemed pretty certain that Doreen wasn't getting any."

"You believe Nikki?"

"On that? Yes. Although Nikki is moody, no question." Isobel paced into the galley kitchen and poured out what was left of the Diet Coke. "Paula is a dragon, Conchita is a religious nut, Frank is preoccupied, and Stan is a hologram." She leaned on the counter. "What do you think?"

"Look to the religious nut. They'll do anything in the name of God."

"I just can't see Conchita driving a pair of scissors through somebody's chest. She's like a little Hispanic grandmother. If you saw her, you'd know what I mean."

Delphi capped her nail polish and waved it at Isobel. "Don't be fooled. Those little Hispanic grandmothers are tough!"

Isobel looked at her watch. "I wouldn't mind some fresh air. And more Diet Coke. Wanna take a walk?"

"Can't, I'm still drying," Delphi said, wiggling her toes.

Isobel grabbed her coat and walked down the three flights to the newsstand on the corner. The newsman was just cutting open the plastic binders around a stack of copies of Backstage and was happy to unload one on Isobel. She stopped at the deli for another bottle of Diet Coke and a bag of pretzels and headed home, waving cheerfully to two male prostitutes in drag, who were camped out on the stoop a few doors down. They waved back and continued to chug from bottles ineptly concealed in brown bags. Isobel liked the "local color," as she called it. Familiarity had eased any fears she may have had, as the unknown became known and thereby less menacing.

Delphi was talking agitatedly into her cell phone when Isobel got back.

"Just tell her to stop! Aster, look...I know, but Pansy has always had her issues with Mom, and I think if she's going to...fine, don't listen to me, you never do. No! Poppy's got her own shit to deal with right now. That guy dumped her... Well, I don't know why she didn't tell you. I have to go. Right. All right. Look out for Zinn, okay? Bye."