Lenny had been taking copious notes in addition to his recorder. It had been working furiously to capture the words, the revelations, and confessions of Bianca Klavelle as she held court at the Empyrean Club. To look at the woman, one would easily consider her a parody of the old lady who wore a silly wig and put on too much makeup and perfume. But to know Bianca, one understood her colorful makeup matched her colorful nature and personality, her rose-scented perfume a part of her ladylike demeanor at times. She had an artisan face with aquiline features and a long, pointed chin. Glittering green eye shadow and midnight liner highlighted her shrewdly dark eyes, while bright lipstick rimmed her full mouth.
Lenny figured she wore the bouffant wig of orange-red curls to add to her flam
