Dames, he said in a disgusted tone. Didn't you tell me to button my gabber?

"Yes, but… I changed my mind. I mean, the movie's over. So it's okay if you want to talk."

The broad on stage is that boring, huh?

"It's not that she's boring. It's just that I already know what she's telling me. There are dozens of books in my store that say as much."

Okay, baby, I've got an idea. Let's blow this joint.

"What?"

I keep telling you, sweetheart, I can take you out on the town, if you let me. How about it? Dinner at the Copa? A room at the Plaza, just you and me…

I felt a thin, cool column of air swirl around me, tickle the back of my neck, brush past my cheek.

"Stop it, Jack," I whispered. "You're being silly now."

Am I? When you thought I'd beat it, you couldn't reach for that nickel fast enough.

"I was simply worried about purse snatchers." I folded my arms and rubbed them, trying to ward off Jack's little chill. "I hear it happens in movie theaters, you know? And there's a lot of people here tonight from out of town."

The exasperating sound of decidedly smug male laughter rolled through my head as Dr. Lilly continued her lecture. Now she was explaining exactly why those noirs shot by Gotham Features studio were such a hit.

"While there were many films being produced at that time on the East and West coasts, the cluster produced by Gotham had made a small fortune because they had something the others didn't: the blonde bombshell Hedda Geist."

Dr. Lilly lifted her arm and gave a little wave toward the projectionist's booth. Suddenly, a new slide appeared on the screen, the 1948 movie poster for Wrong Turn, which featured the arresting image of Hedda Geist's beautiful face and form. Her hourglass figure was draped in the same shimmering, silver gown that she'd worn in the first scene of the picture, only it wasn't yet torn. And her big green eyes appeared wide, startled, and a little bit desperate.

Dr. Lilly fixed a smile on a section of college kids in the audience-the group was mostly young and mostly male, many of them wearing fraternity jackets.

"So what was it about this type of story and theme that appealed to audiences back in the 1940s and '50s, and continues to appeal to twenty-first-century film enthusiasts today?"

"Sex appeal," one of the young men shouted.

"Hedda's killer body," yelled another.

"Sadomasochism!" someone else called out, and the audience fell apart.

"Maybe a bit of that," Dr. Lilly said with a raised eyebrow. "But the truth is much simpler. The most subversive noir films-Touch of Evil, Pickup on South Street, This Gun for Hire-depict a world that is so morally bankrupt that it's lost its way. Good languishes and evil dominates, the bad guy has money and power and status and the good guys are lowlifes, social pariahs who live on the raw edge of society."

If that's what this broad thinks, she hasn't lived on the "raw edge of society" much. Someone should inform her there's not a helluva lot of "good guys" there.

"She's speaking relatively, Jack," I told the ghost. "You lived on the edge, and you weren't a bad guy Were you?"

No comment.

"Although the film movement began in the forties, filmmakers who came after, in the sixties and seventies, embraced its tenets. Movies like Taxi Driver and Chinatown may not have used the same stark, black-and-white palette of the early noir entries, but their cynical narratives were most definitely steeped in the same kettle. By the way, you'll also find the poster of Wrong Turn on the cover of my brand-new book, Murdered in Plain Sight."

Dr. Lilly paused a moment. "While I've given overviews of noir in my past publications, this new book of mine is much more specific-and I believe it will be of great interest to all of you, as well as your local media. It's the first book ever to delve into the details of Hedda Geist's personal life and career."

Dr. Lilly frowned. "I must apologize for the mistake that prevented the publisher from getting my hardcover copies here in time for me to sign for you tonight in the lobby, as the festival's event planners wished-an unfortunate postal delay, I'm told."

In the next seat, Brainert turned to me and whispered, "You're kidding. That's very disappointing. We were all expecting a signing to take place in the lobby."

"I know," I said with a sigh. "Dr. Lilly made it very clear that she was handling the delivery of her new release, but Buy the Book never received a thing. We've already rescheduled her

signing."

Brainert spun around to glare at Seymour in the row behind us. "What do you know about a postal delay?"

Seymour raised his hands. "Don't look at me, Parker. I only lose deliveries when somebody pisses me off, and I never even met that woman!"

"Shhh!" someone hissed.

On stage, Dr. Lilly continued: "I spoke to the people at San Fernando University Press, and they promised me that another shipment of my new book will arrive by private service tomorrow morning. The stock will be available at the Buy the Book store, where I'll be signing at twelve noon sharp!"

Applause greeted the news. Dr. Lilly smiled, and then she glanced over her shoulder at the poster featuring Hedda Geist.

"Ms. Geist, now Mrs. Geist-Middleton, has lived such a quiet life for the last two decades, few people were even aware that she was still alive. But she is! And she's here this weekend, as you all know, if you've reviewed your program schedule. She'll be on this very stage tomorrow, doing a Q &A session with Barry Yello. She might even be here in the audience tonight. Ms. Geist-Middleton, are you here? If you are, I'd love you to stand up and take a brief bow "

Like everyone else, I twisted around in my theater seat, scanning the crowd, dying with curiosity to see what the famous femme fatale looked like sixty years after Wrong Turn.

In the very back row of the house, an attractive young blonde rose from her velvet-lined seat. She stood and began to clap. Then people around her began to clap. The clapping grew louder, moving down the theater, row after row, until finally I saw what they were clapping about.

Hedda Geist-Middleton had stood up-but she did much more than simply take a "brief bow" as Dr. Lilly suggested. The elderly woman moved into the center aisle and began to stroll down the deep blue carpet. She walked with sure footing, her head regally high, on a slender but sturdy frame. She wore a gorgeously tailored white pantsuit dripping with silver embroidery. Large diamond earrings sparkled beneath white hair, which was pulled into a smooth French twist and held in place by a diamond-studded comb.

Applause followed the woman, thundering down from the back of the theater. The woman blew kisses at members of the audience, who began to rise from their seats for a standing ovation.

Once a diva, always a diva, Jack quipped.

"Is that really her?" I silently wondered.

Time's a witch, ain't she? Jack replied.

"You're not giving her much credit, Jack. For an eighty-five-year-old woman, she looks pretty darn good to me."

Though sixty years had passed since her stardom, I still recognized the same radiant beauty that lit up the screen in a half-dozen dark-crime dramas. Despite the wrinkles and age spots, Hedda Geist still possessed those incredibly high cheekbones and famous catlike eyes that had made her a star.

I'll give the old broad this: She managed to stay out of the skull orchard a whole lot longer than yours truly.

On stage, Dr. Lilly squinted against the spotlight, shading her eyes as she peered into the theater's aisle. "Is that her? Oh, yes. There she is, ladies and gentleman, Mrs. Hedda Geist-Middleton!"

Next to me, Brainert was having a fit. "She came! Oh, my goodness!" He sprang from his seat and rushed up the aisle to greet the woman. "Ms. Geist-Middleton! I'm honored. We all are! Please, won't you come on stage and say a few words?"