depends on your definition of the word ‘illegal.’ That’s me in every photo. Just a different hairdo, a little spirit gum here or there to alter the facial features, a little shoulder padding, but it is me.”
“At the outset I say to all my clients, ‘Tell me the truth, or I can’t help you.’ I’m sure you are aware of the confidentiality agreement between client and lawyer. If you aren’t, what that means is I can never divulge anything you tell me to a third party. So whatever you say to me today, here in this room, I cannot tell another soul. Whatever your secrets are, they are safe with me. Having said that, I now need to ask you why you feel you need four identities other than your real one? What kind of trouble are you in?”
The woman of many names drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Right now I am not in any trouble, but I will be very shortly. I’m here because…because…I want to know if there is any way I can head it off. What my options are, assuming I have any.”
“Okay. But you have to tell me what type of trouble you think is headed your way.”
Lily Flowers took another deep breath. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
Cosmo shook his head. “No, I don’t recognize you. Should I? Have we met somewhere? Right now you appear to me to be a potential client in distress. Like I said, you have to tell me your problem; otherwise, I can’t help you.”
“I operate the Happy Day Camp for Boys and Girls in Pahrump. Until a month ago, our revenues exceeded those of Sheri’s and the Chicken Ranch. Uh, that’s according to my accountant.”
Shit! Good judge of character, my ass. “Prostitution is legal in Pahrump, which is over sixty miles from Vegas. What’s the problem? Did your girls fall short of the medical requirements?”
“No, nothing like that. I operate the cleanest, safest brothel in the state. My girls are the highest paid in the state. My problem is that some of my powerful, wealthy clients asked me to branch out for special occasions. They arranged all the details, a rustic atmosphere, right down to the summer camp theme I operate here. There was nothing in my name. I made sure of that. My girls are independent contractors and pay their taxes and everything that goes with it. As you know, there is no state income tax here in Nevada. I can give you an operations lesson later on. Right now word has filtered down to me that I’m likely to be arrested for my activities. Not here in Nevada but back East.”
Cosmo felt his stomach muscles tie themselves into a knot. “Where back East?”
“The nation’s capital. That’s where all the action went down for Happy Day Camp. The clients, or johns, if you prefer, were all politicians. After the election a few months ago, when our first female president was sworn in, things went south with the opposition and quite a few of the current members of the new administration. They’ve been trying to keep the lid on it all, but word leaked out. It always does.
“It wasn’t all that long ago that the woman they called the D.C. Madam supposedly killed herself. And just for the record, I don’t believe that for one minute, and neither does anyone else who is in this business.”
By then Cosmo felt like he had an army of ants squirming around in his stomach. “Why did you do it? You could operate safely here. Why go to a place like D.C. of all places?”
“Believe it or not, I didn’t want to. I called a meeting of my girls, laid it all out, and—like a fool—allowed them to make the decision. I can understand how none of them wanted to say no—the money the clients were offering was outrageous. A few of the girls planned to retire when they got back. We only did it twice. Once before the election and once again afterward. ‘Celebrations,’ for want of a better word.
“The minute word came down to me, I closed Happy Day Camp and sent the girls off to a safe place to await instructions from me. I traded in Crystal Clark and went back to being Lily Flowers five days ago. I put a sign up that said Happy Day Camp was closed for heavy-duty plumbing repairs. This is the fifth day, and my phone has been ringing constantly. People are looking for me. That’s why I’m Lily Flowers at the moment. I want to know if I should join my girls or stay and fight it out.”
Cosmo twirled the pencil in his hand. He licked at his dry lips and bit down on his bottom lip. “What do you want to do?”
“Anything but go to jail. The johns get off scot-free, and the women go to jail. Tell me where the justice is in that? Will they extradite me back to D.C.?”
“Yes. And I am not licensed to practice law in the District of Columbia.”
“I thought that’s what you were going to say. Okay, that means I have to take off and hope for the best. But I want to leave something with you for safekeeping. I’ll pay your retainer if you agree.”
Cosmo watched as Crystal again started digging around in the oversize bag. She finally came up with book after book, and plopped them on the desk, one on top of the other. “My check registers, my little black books. My business cell phones, all my records. And here,” she said, counting out bills from a stack of money in a brown envelope, “is your retainer. Do not let those books fall into the wrong hands. Will it be all right if I call you from time to time to see…you know…how things are going?”
“Look, Ms. Clark, I know quite a few very good attorneys in Washington, D.C. One in particular who is excellent. Any one of them can help you. You really should think about this before you make a rash decision.”
“I did think about it on the way here. No way am I going to let them come after me. Let them go after the johns. Why should they get off with no penalties? Do you really want to pick up the paper some morning to read that I killed myself? That’s what will happen if I go there and lawyer up. You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Cricket. Will it be all right for me to call you from time to time, and will you keep all these records safe until such time as I want them back?”
Every bone, every nerve in Cosmo’s body wanted to shout no, no, no. “Yes,” was his response. “Will you be okay?”
The woman of many names laughed. At least Cosmo thought it was a laugh. “I’ll be just fine. I knew this day might come, and I’ve prepared for it.”
Cosmo watched as she gathered up all her identity papers and shoved them into the bag, which now sagged together on the sides, then plopped it on top of Cosmo’s desk. “What about money?”
“It’s offshore. I’m not stupid, Mr. Cricket. Like I said, I prepared for this day a long time ago. And those records,” she said, pointing to the pile of black books and check registers teetering precariously on his desk, “are the originals. The phones are real, and I have no others. The duplicate books and records are in safe hands and being delivered to the intended recipients, that’s as in plural, as we speak.”
The woman of many names stood up. Cosmo thought she looked taller without the weight of the heavy bag on her shoulder. “Don’t you think you should tell me who has the copies? Just in case.” Christ, how lame did that sound?
The woman laughed. This time it was a delightful, wicked laugh. She winked at him and laughed again. She held up her index and middle finger in the sign of a V before she sashayed out of the office.
Was that a V? Damn straight it was a V. The only V he could relate to was the V in the word “Vigilante.” It couldn’t stand for “victory,” given her circumstances.
It was Cosmo’s turn to laugh, and laugh he did. He couldn’t
