RANSVESTIA

"Who recommended Angie Saunders?" Cort interrupted to end what he felt might be one of Mayer's longwinded, roundabout, grumbling orations.

"Oh," Mayer's stream of thought was interrupted. “Oh, no-one," he mumbled. "I was passing through Vegas late but I didn't want to gamble. I only stopped in the place for a nightcap. They were doing that sketch where she was the dizzy, blonde nurse. It just knocked me out. I must have watched her for three or four weeks. I couldn't believe such a talent in such a place. And what legs!" He broke off to complete his drink, his eyes downcast, obviously ruminating on some private scene of Angie's loveliness.

Cort waited, his irritation growing. "Then you recommended her to us officially," he prompted.

"What?" Mayer's preoccupation was so unlike him that Cort had begun to feel very uneasy. "Yes, that's right," Mayer went on. "And you bought out her contract." He looked back at the loose thread on his pant leg. "And you broke up a pretty fair cabaret revue of its kind."

"So what?" said Cort indignantly. "It happens all the time. It's show business."

"But one of that group, the leading singer, Cathy Lord, was still smouldering when I talked to her at the Red-and-White yesterday," said the talent scout.

"The Red-and-White?" Cort frowned. "I can't say I know it."

Mayer smiled, shocking Cort. He had never seen him smile before and the icy smile on the thin lips gave Mayer a sly, predatory look. "It's a club a cut below the Pearl City," he said. "Cathy wasn't one of Ray Storey's favorite people, it appears. He took advantage of the break up of the group to fire her."

Cort shrugged. "So, some bitter ex-friend of Angie's has a story for sale."

Mayer nodded. "Three years ago, Jean Rodriguez hired on with the Pearl City Revue when their principal dancer left to get married.

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