"You met me?"

"I was introduced to you. There was a girl used to work here, I think her name was Cini. She introduced us."

Doreen hesitated, though her expression remained calm and told him nothing. She said, "Yeah, Cini used to work here some time ago. Very nice person. You used to see her?"

"A few times, that's all."

"I think maybe she quit to go back to school."

"Probably," Mitchell said. He pulled the print out of the camera and peeled off the negative. "I understand a lot of the girls doing this are working their way through college."

"That's as good a story as any," Doreen said. "How'd it turn out?"

Mitchell studied the print. "Not bad. A little dark."

"That's me, baby."

"I mean the light. It's a little underexposed."

"Then I say, 'Wait till I take my pants off, you want some more exposure.' "

Mitchell gave her a big friendly grin. "That's pretty good."

"Or the dude says, 'Hey, honey, what size is your aperture?' "

"There must be something you do with focus," Mitchell said.

Doreen nodded. "Dude's taking a picture of two of us? Paid double for the treat. I say, 'Hey, are you trying to focus or what?' "

"Lots of laughs in your work, uh?" Mitchell snapped another picture of her and grinned. "Gotcha."

"You really do take pictures, don't you?"

"Doesn't everybody?" He sounded honest, sincere.

Doreen's calm brown eyes lingered on Mitchell. "You ever go up to Cini's place?"

"You asked me if I used to see her. That's where it was."

"Where exactly?"

"Apartment over on Merrill. You've got one in the same building," Mitchell said. "Once in a while Cini used to drive you home."

Doreen raised her nice soft eyes. "You did know her, didn't you?"

"Pretty well, I guess."

"How much she used to charge you?"

Mitchell was pulling the print out of the camera. He looked up abruptly to meet Doreen's calm gaze watching him. He said, "She didn't charge me anything." And looked down again to peel open the photograph and study it.

"Not even the first time?"

"Not any time," Mitchell said.

"Well, I guess that's her business," Doreen said. "Or I guess I should say that was not her business." Doreen grinned then. "Unless you're bragging, telling me a story."

"What difference does it make," Mitchell said, "if you believe it or not?"

"Well, love. I was entertaining the thought, maybe we ought to leave this store to the shoe clerks and head for my place. The only thing is, the management over there don't hand out any freebies, not to anybody." She waited and said, "Well?"

He could see Cini in this room. He could see her in the apartment and he could see her on the beach in the Bahamas, the natural, nice-looking girl who smiled easily and made him feel good.

He said to Doreen, "How much?"

"A hundred dollars. With that you get tea, a smoke and a chance to try for seconds."

Mitchell nodded. "All right, let's do it."

Doreen worked her eyes again. "Hey, I like you. Whether it's my charm or you're just in heat I still like you. But there's one thing, love, you're going to have to pay for this little session first, twenty with the camera or else the boss'll cut off my business." When Mitchell opened his wallet and handed her a fifty-dollar bill, Doreen smiled and said, "You come ready, don't you?"

He was ready to go with her to her apartment or anywhere, to try to find out everything he could about a girl named Cynthia Fisher and how she lived and the people she knew. But there was a delay.

Doreen opened the cash box in the desk drawer. There wasn't enough change inside for Mitchell's fifty.

Doreen said, "Goddamnit, where's Leo, in the office?"

Peggy looked up from her magazine. "I think he went out."

Doreen turned to Mitchell. "I'll go look. You can come along if you want, love, or wait here."

Mitchell followed her down the hall past the studios. He was still holding the Polaroid, but did not realize it or think about it at the time. He wanted to look at this man again whose name was Leo and ask him something about Cini. He wasn't sure what he would ask; but that was the reason he followed Doreen down the hall to the last door and was standing behind her when she opened it and he saw Leo behind the desk, the heavyset man straightening and seeing him at the same time. Doreen was saying, "Leo, give me thirty dollars for this, will you please?" But Leo was not looking at Doreen. His expression was fixed, frozen for a short moment, and Mitchell would remember the look on his face.

"It's good to see you again," Leo said, forming a smile. "Seems like you're becoming a regular."

Doreen said, "Leo, take this and give me thirty back, okay? The man's waiting."

Mitchell knew in that moment what he was going to do. He said, "Doreen?"

She said "What?"

He said again, "Doreen?"

This time she half-turned, looking around at him, and he said, "One more."

Mitchell raised the Polaroid and pressed his eye to the viewfinder. He heard Leo say, "Not here, no!" But it was too late. He clicked the shutter, paused a moment and lowered the camera to wait for the development process to take place.

Leo said, "Hey, I mean it. I'm going to have to ask you for that camera. You rent it to take pictures of the models, but now the time's up, you don't get to use it after that."

"My time isn't up," Mitchell said.

"Well, what I mean," Leo said, "it's all right to take pictures in the studios, but this is private property. You can't take any pictures you want. You know what I mean? You rent the camera to take pictures of models."

"She's a model," Mitchell said. He saw Doreen's expression. She had no idea what was going on.

"Yeah, she's a model," Leo said, "but you aren't in a studio. That's the rule. You have to be in a studio. You can understand that. I mean how would you like somebody to come in here and take your picture if you don't want it taken?"

As Mitchell raised the camera, pulled out the print and peeled it away from the negative, Leo Frank was saying, "I can demand you give me that picture." Mitchell looked at it a moment and slipped it into the inside pocket of his coat.

"Now come on, man, I'm serious." Leo Frank got up and came around his desk toward Mitchell, his hand extended. "Give me the picture."

Mitchell said to him, "If you want it, you'll have to take it. The question is, How bad do you want it?"

Mitchell waited, giving him time. When Leo didn't move or say anything Mitchell turned and walked out.

Leo was still at his desk when Alan entered the back way and came into the office.

"He took my picture," Leo said.

"What're you talking about? Who took your picture?"

"The guy, he came in here with Doreen a couple minutes ago, he tells her to turn around and takes a Polaroid shot."

Alan was sitting down. "You mean he took a picture of Doreen." Sitting forward in the office chair now, his hands on the edge of the desk.

"No, he made it sound like that, telling her to turn around. But I'm in the picture, I know I am."

"He show you the print?"

"No, he said, 'You want it, try and get it,' and walked out."

Alan stared at Leo before sitting slowly back in the chair. "All right, let's say he's got your picture. So what? He's seen you here a few times before, he knows what you look like. So what? Leo, think, all right? What good's the picture going to do him?"

"He's onto something," Leo said. "I know it."

Alan gave him a weary look, a slow shake of the head. "Leo, he's onto shit. He doesn't know you. There is no possible way he can tie you into it. Unless you tell him yourself."

"Tell him. Christ, you think I'd tell him?"

"I don't know," Alan said, "but you look like you're ready to have a fucking heart attack." He hunched forward again. "Leo, the guy takes your picture. You could've given him a picture, personally autographed, he can carry it around in his wallet. But Leo, listen to me, how's it going to help him?"