Death of a Blue Movie Star (Rune 2)

"You know, small companies doing documentaries or low-budget features. Like L&R ... You're grinning and you're coy and there's an old expression about butter melting in the mouth that I could never figure out but I think fits here. What's up?"

"You ever do adult films?"

He shrugged. "Oh, porn? Sure. We do a lot of it. I thought you were asking me something inscrutable."

"Can you give me the name of somebody at one of the companies?"

"I don't know. Isn't this some kind of business-ethics question, client confidentiality--"

"Stu, we're talking about a company making films that're probably illegal in most of the world and you're worried about business ethics?"

Stu shrugged. "If you don't tell them I sent you, you might try Lame Duck Productions. They're a big one. And just a couple blocks from you guys."

"From L&R?"

"Yeah. On Nineteenth near Fifth."

The man's huge Rolodex spun and gave off an afternoon library smell. He wrote down the address.

"Do they have an actress who's famous in the business?"

"What business?"

"Adult films."

"You're asking me? I have no idea."

"When you super the credits in the postproduction work, don't you see the names? Whose name do you see the most?"

He thought for a minute. "Well, I don't know whether she's famous but there's one actress for Lame Duck that I see all the time. Her name's Shelly Lowe."

There was a familiarity about the name.

"Does she have a narrow face, blonde?"

"Yeah, I guess. I didn't look at her face very much."

Rune frowned. "You're a dirty old man."

"You know her?" he asked.

"There was a bombing in Times Square, this porn theater.... Did you hear about it?"

"No."

"Just today, a couple hours ago. I think she was in one of the movies that was playing there when it happened."

Perfect.

Rune put the address in her plastic leopard-skin shoulder bag.

Stu rocked back in his chair.

"Well?" Rune asked.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you curious why I asked?"