"He'd tell them how important it was in their line of work to guard against their own tendencies, everybody has such tendencies—this is him talking—and child abuse is an insidious thing. And he'd have them interested and listening, and he'd say, 'I know you yourself must have been tempted on many an occasion to slap the little kid you're sitting, especially when he's acting up,' and the fifteen-year-old sitter goes, 'Oh, boy, you said it,' and he goes, 'For example, haven't you been tempted at least once tonight to smack him around?' and she goes, 'Well…' and he goes, 'Come on, tell me the truth, I'm a trained child psychologist,' and before you know it, he's got her convinced that the best way to
"That's fascinating," Peaches said.
"Another case I had, this guy would look in the paper for ads where people were selling furniture. He was looking for somebody selling a kid's bedroom set, you know? Getting rid of the kiddy furniture, replacing it with more mature stuff. He knew he'd get either a youngish mother or a teenage girl on the phone—usually the girls who want their furniture changed when they get into their teens. And he'd start talking to them about the furniture, either the mother if she was home, or the teenage girl if the mother was out, and while he was talking to them, because it would be a long conversation, you know, what kind of bed is it, and how's the mattress, and how many drawers in the dresser, like that, while he was on the phone he'd be… well…"
"He'd be masturbating," Peaches said.
"Well, yes."
"Do you think the man who called me tonight was masturbating while he talked to me?"
"That's difficult to say. From what you told me, he either
"Well, thank you," Peaches said, and smiled.
"Sounds to me like that's what would've set him off. Getting you to strip in front of the mirror there. You'd be surprised how many women go along with something like that. He hooks them into thinking they've got a shot at modeling—there isn't a woman alive who wouldn't like to be a model—and then he gets them looking at themselves while he does his number."
"That's when I began to realize," Peaches said.
"Sure."
"When he told me to take off my blouse."
"Sure. But lots of women don't realize even then. You'd be surprised. They just go along with it, thinking it's legit, never guessing what's happening on the other end."
"I'm afraid he might come here," Peaches said.
"Well, these guys don't usually do that," Parker said. "They're not your rapists or your stranglers, usually. Don't quote me on that, you got all
"Usually," Peaches said.
"Yes," Parker said.
"Because he has my address, you see."
"Um," Parker said.
"And my name is on the mailbox downstairs. With the apartment number."
"I know. I saw it when I rang the bell. But that says P. Muldoon."
"Sure, but that's what's in the phone book, too. P. Muldoon."
"Well, I doubt he'll be coming around here. He may not even call again. What I'd do, though, if I was you, I'd change that message on your answering machine. Lots of single girls, they do these fancy messages, music going in the background, they try to sound sexy, it makes the caller think he's got some kind of swinger here. Better to just put a businesslike message on the machine. Something like, 'You've reached 123-4567,' and then, 'Please leave a message when you hear the beep.' Strictly business. You don't have to explain that you can't come to the phone because everybody
"Yes, I know."
"The point is most people today are familiar with answering machines, they
"I see," Peaches said.
"Yeah," Parker. "Do you have any male friends who can record a message for you?"
"Well…"