RANSVESTIA

monitor the reactions of other unless you look at them and mark how they react to you?" he asked. "Now, who was the waitress?" he turned back to the brunette who had remained leaning on the closed door.

"Jill," said Kim, a strange kind of look on his powdered face.

"What's his last name?" asked Bud, a touch of exasperation on his voice.

Kim's black-line eyes, and thick false eyelashes, fluttered with anxiety. Hamilton looked at the tranvestite closely. Kim's tongue ran over his red-painted lips and he looked at Buchanan and Calesi with a nervousness that bordered on fear. He looked back at Hamilton, almost pleading. "She had nothing to do with this," he said, reverting to the masculine tones he'd used when they'd first met. It obviously upset the detectives more to hear Kim's male voice, when he was dressed as a woman, than it did to hear his soft, feminine voice.

"His name," said Hamilton firmly. Kim looked about wildly, and then strode firmly in a most unfeminine manner over to the desk. Buchanan, the phone cupped under his chin, leaned back as Kim picked up a pencil and notebook from the desk. He stepped away and, watching the two Allen County detectives warily, wrote something on the paper. Then, relaxing, Kim tore off the note, restored the paper and pencil to the desk and minced over to Hamilton, who was resting against a file cabinet just inside the door.

Hamilton smelled the sharp, fragrant aroma of Chanel No. 5 was Kim pushed the note into his hand. He opened it and read it swiftly. "Jill is Peter Gantsby." the note said simply. For a moment, Hamilton had to take in all of the implications of the note. He nodded to the strained, feminine face watching him, and put the note into his pocket. "Was Jill in the bar Wednesday evening?" he asked more quietly.

Kim nodded. "All the waitresses worked right through to two o'clock. They clean up the bar after the last customer leaves."

"Did you see Jill leave?" Hamilton continued with his questions, but Kim shook his head, his heavy, silver earrings swinging. They must have pinched a little, because he reached up and slipped them off with his slinder, pink-tipped fingers. "There was another group of

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