You're So Vain

As she reversed her red Firebird Pontiac out of the squad parking lot, Vadgy glanced down at her Movado watch. It was late. It looked like she would have to pull another all-nighter if she was going to crack this case. She drove home, up and down the winding San Francisco streets, wondering how Titsy was tonight and silently vowing that she wouldn’t rest till she got justice for her.

Being promoted to detective had meant that Vadgy was able to surround herself with the things she loved. Her downtown apartment was fashionably decorated in her favourites shades of brown and orange. Only last week new carpet had been laid in the sunken lounge and as she slipped off her cork heeled platforms, her toes dug down into the shag pile. She walked over to the stereo, gin and tonic in hand, and set the needle on her Carly Simon album. “You’re So Vain” played as she looked down at the “Oliver” file which spilled over the tangerine modular lounge. “How apt” she thought.

As she started to sort through the hundreds of statements and photos, her cat “Lady” crept up onto her lap and nestled in. “Lady” had a particular fondness for the purple velour bell bottom jumpsuit Vadgy was wearing.

Vadgy had a lot of work to get through. She would have to miss tonight’s episode of Dallas. There was no time for TV while Titsy languished in the mental hospital and that bastard Oliver was still out there.