“So that’s when you started the escort service?”
“Right,” she said, wadding the gooey tissue up in a ball and tossing it in the wastebasket.
“And it was successful right away?”
“Beyond my highest expectations.”
“But what gave you the idea, and how did you know what to do? How did you get the operation up and running so quickly?”
Sabrina powdered her face and applied a little rouge to her cheeks. “I got the idea from Charlotte. Her hair-raising tales about the way prostitutes are treated by their pimps and johns led me to imagine a different kind of sex service-where the girls would be managed by a considerate, fair-minded woman and dealt with as professionals; an agency that would screen all potential clients and accept only the best. It was a can’t-fail concept, I thought, which would be as beneficial to others as it would be to me.
“And it required virtually no capital outlay,” Sabrina went on. “I put a HELP WANTED ad in the paper, offering ‘after-hours employment for attractive young ladies in the city’s most elite escort agency,’ then sat back and waited for the phone to ring. Which it did-off the hook. Within a week I had signed up sixteen beautiful, polite, and articulate young women who-for reasons too numerous and diverse to discuss-were willing to perform sexual favors for discreet, well-mannered gentlemen in exchange for money.
“Then, after Charlotte filled me in on the rules, regulations, and going rates in the trade, I got on the phone and called all my male acquaintances from my debutante and socialite days- men I knew to be respectable, successful, rich, and horny. I told them about my new venture, described all my high-class and high-priced call girls, then began arranging the supply to meet the demand. By the end of my first month in business, my clients were as happy as clams, my girls had earned more income than they ever thought possible, and Charlotte and I were comfortably settled on Gramercy Park East.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I said, marveling at Sabrina’s vision, ingenuity, and fortitude. Prostitution was a filthy business, but her enterprise seemed almost clean.
“It was a simple two-step,” she said, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “ Charlotte showed me the ropes, and I pulled the strings.”
Chapter 21
SABRINA’S REVELATIONS WERE INTRIGUING, TO say the least, and they gave me a deeper understanding of her character as well as the overall situation. But I had to admit that her confessions probably wouldn’t-as Sabrina had so fiercely contended-help me identify the killer of Virginia Pratt. If I was ever going to reach that goal, I realized, I’d have to get tough and press for the hard answers.
“I’ve asked you about this before, Sabrina,” I said, “and so far you’ve refused to respond. But now I’m demanding a full disclosure. Why did Virgi-I mean, Melody-become a call girl?”
Sabrina stood up from her dressing table, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned to face me head-on. “You won’t give up, will you? It’s not enough that you’ve dredged up the most painful secrets of my past, and also Charlotte ’s, but now you won’t rest until Melody’s saddest and most closely guarded secret is exposed! I’ve told you repeatedly it has nothing to do with her murder! Why can’t you leave this one alone? Why can’t you just accept the fact that I’ve told you the truth?”
“Because secrets have a way of hiding the truth-maybe even from you.”
My words must have touched a nerve or exhumed another distressing memory, because the next thing I knew, Sabrina lunged across the room, threw herself facedown on her big, unmade bed, and started crying.
I was shocked to the core. This was a side of Sabrina I had never seen-and had never expected to see. “What’s wrong?” I yelped, jumping to my feet and darting to the side of the bed. “What’s the matter? Why are you so upset? Was it something I said?” I felt confused, concerned, and responsible. Had I pushed the poor woman to the breaking point?
Sabrina didn’t say anything. She just buried her face deep in her pillow, smudging rouge on the lavender pillowcase and muffling her heartrending sobs in the mound of feathers.
I didn’t know what to do, but I felt I had to do something. “Please don’t cry,” I said, sitting down on the side of her bed. I leaned forward and gave her an awkward pat on the back. “I’m so sorry, Sabrina. I didn’t mean to-”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said, suddenly raising herself on her forearms, turning her crying jag off like a light. Her eyes were still red and wet, but her shoulders had stopped shaking. “You don’t have to apologize, Paige. It’s not your fault. You’re just doing your job, and I’m acting like a crazy woman. I’ve got to pull myself together.” Putting her weight on one elbow, she drew her knees up to her chest, swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and slowly pushed herself up to a sitting position.
We sat in silence for a few seconds, not looking at each other, slumped side by side on the edge of the bed like two strangers on a park bench. I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t, so I finally asked, “What happened just now, Sabrina? What got you so upset?”
“It wasn’t any one thing,” she said, sighing heavily. “It’s the whole goddamn bloody mess. I’m devastated about what happened to Melody, and it’s all my fault. I fixed her up with a homicidal maniac! Can you imagine how that makes me feel? She was like a daughter to me. She trusted me. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed. Miserably.” A final tear slithered down her cheek, and Sabrina swiped it off with the sleeve of her robe. “And now you want me to betray her trust again,” she went on. “You want me to tell you why she joined my escort service, when I swore to her I would never reveal that secret to another living soul.”
“But things were different when you made that promise,” I said. “And if you could talk to Melody now, I believe she’d release you from that vow. In fact, I think she’d want you to give a full account to anybody who’s trying to bring her killer to justice.”
Sabrina turned and gave me a grave but compliant look. “I know you’re right, Paige. I’ve known it all along. And I was planning to tell you everything, anyway. I was just trying to put it off as long as possible. I guess I needed to have a mental breakdown first.”
I smiled. “A perfectly normal reaction, it seems to me.” I felt I was finally meeting the real Sabrina-a classy woman with a big heart. A shady lady with shiny morals. A woman I could actually like.
AFTER A SHORT BREATHER, SABRINA STOPPED putting me off. “This won’t be easy,” she said, standing up and returning to the lavender-and-white-striped armchair she’d been sitting in before. She resumed her seat and pulled her robe tight over her knees. “And it’s a long, complicated story, Paige, so you might as well come sit over here and be comfortable.”
I took her advice and moved from the bed back to my chair.
“I’ll tell it straight from beginning to end,” she murmured, “as succinctly and quickly as I can. These are painful memories for me, and I don’t want to dwell on them. So I’d appreciate it if you could just sit still, listen carefully, and refrain from interrupting me. Think you can do that?” Her tone was genial, not snippy.
“My lips are sealed,” I said, smiling.
Sabrina nodded, and rested her head against the back of her chair. “Melody came to me to apply for an escort position two and a half years ago,” she said, gazing ahead and upward as if watching a movie from the first row. “She had just turned eighteen. She was the most beautiful applicant I’d ever interviewed, but so young and inexperienced, I was reluctant to hire her. I gave in, though, after she broke down in tears and told me why she needed the money.