The Role Players Read Free

rest of the place, what little of it there is. I’m afraid the living room’s as big as the rest of the apartment.”
    We followed him to and down a short hall. To the left was a very small kitchen, across from which was an open bedroom door.
    “Our room,” Chris said with a nod of his head as we passed it. Next to it, on the same side of the hall, was a bathroom with a claw-foot, bright white cast iron tub that had been retrofitted for use as a shower. Across from the bathroom, and behind the kitchen, was another small room with a comfortable looking couch, a desk, and several bookcases.
    “The sofa’s a sleeper,” Chris said. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s really pretty comfortable. We needed a den, and there just wasn’t room for another full bed. I’ll pull it out for you later.”
    Jonathan, who had been taking it all in, said, “I’ve slept on a lot of couches,” he said, “but never one that made into a bed. This’ll be great!”
    Chris opened the door to a small, empty closet with lots of hangers. “I hope this will be big enough for your things.” We assured him it would, and he excused himself to go off to start coffee while we unpacked.
    As we walked into the kitchen…well, actually the kitchen was really too small to be practical for three people, so we mostly stood in the doorway…the front door opened and Max came in.
    “I love New York,” he said, shaking his head, “but I’d never have a car here!”
    We joined Max at the teak dining room table in the dining area at the kitchen end of the living room, and Chris came out with a tray with four mugs of coffee, an open carton of half-and-half, a bowl of sugar packets, and a couple of spoons.
    “What?” I asked. “Not the good china?”
    “This is the good china, at least for family, which includes you. I thought you might be insulted if we started treating you like guests.”
    He had a point.
    Max looked back and forth between Jonathan and me. “I see married life seems to agree with both of you,” he said. He looked at Jonathan appreciatively. “You, especially. What happened to that skinny kid we saw just a couple months ago?”
    I guess I hadn’t really realized it, seeing Jonathan every day as I did. But Max was right. Jonathan had filled out very nicely.
    Jonathan blushed. “Well, when you haul trees and bushes and fifty-pound bags of mulch around all day…”
    “Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up!”
    We drank our coffee and small talked about things that had been going on in our lives that we hadn’t covered in phone calls and letters. Max wanted to hear about the cases I’d been working on since their visit and I sketched in a couple of my more interesting ones. The conversation eventually got around to the play.
    “Sorry to hear about one of the leads dying,” I said.
    “Yeah,” Max sighed, sitting back in his chair. “A couple cops stopped by today just as we were getting ready to leave for the airport, and I told them what I could, which wasn’t much. I gather they’re pretty much convinced it was just a robbery gone wrong. But Rod’s death was a real blow. He was a recognizable name; he would have pulled in a lot of business.”
    “You think the play won’t draw enough business on its own?” I asked, a little surprised that Max’s concern seemed to be more for the success of the show than for the poor guy’s death.
    Apparently realizing what he’d said, Max did a quick backpedal. “Sorry,” he said with a small smile. “I’m sure the play will do just fine. At least I hope so. It’s just that Rod was, well, he was kind of…”
    “I think ‘slut’ is the word you’re looking for,” with a very strange smile aimed directly at Max.
    “Well, ‘slut’ might be a little strong,” Max said, “but…”
    Chris looked quickly from Jonathan to me. “Sorry,” he said brightly. “Just a little of the jealous lover cropping up in me, I guess.”
    Jonathan and I looked at one another, not