RANSVESTIA

"He's a real hot dog, or he wouldn't be trying to push Buck off Bleeker."

"He's that good that he can walk alone?" Bud couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice.

-

"Well, he's never quite alone not entirely," said Seivers, giving Bud a leer. "He's always got Candy with him. Maybe he don't wanna share her with anyone else."

"Candy?" asked Bud, wishing that Matek had filled him in more completely before turning this 'simple case' over to him.

"You don't know our Candy?" It was Al Seivers turn to be astonished. "Here." He put down his sandwich on the top of a large wooden crate and reached inside his suit pocket. As the other fumbled through his wallet, Bud scanned the deserted road. Apart from blinking neon signs at either end of the street, there was no action at all which was strange in itself as this area was known for its derelicts. They obviously knew better than to hang out on Bassaglia's home territory, not when half the town knew that Old Man Buck was out to cut the upstart down.

"Now, don't she look sweet?" asked Seivers, laying out a series of photographs in front of Bud Hamilton. Bud looked at the candid photos placed on the sill in front of him. Candy was a very well stacked blonde, with a mass of frezzy, platinum curls. As might be expected, she wore a great deal of makeup and very smart clothes that showed off her legs and her figure to great advantage.

"Yeah," said Hamilton, looking back up to the closed front door of Bassaglia's apartment building. "Does she always come out in front of him?"

Seivers looked hard at the photographs, a deep furrow across his wide forehead. He pushed away a lock of gray hair that strayed across his face. "Does seem that way, don't it?" he said, looking from one photo to the other.

"She's in there with him now?” asked Bud, nodding towards the dimly lit windows on the second floor that were Bassaglia's

-79-