“I’ll have to paint your apartment next,” he said to her as she passed. “Maybe we can work out a deal.” When the woman smiled politely, he stuck out his tongue and made a quick licking gesture. She was in her late twenties and was carrying a bag of groceries from an expensive store. She was dressed in a suit and was so clearly not a prostitute, it was ridiculous. The woman entered the apartment across the hall, and after she had closed the door behind her, Mr. Johnston told me he had her in the palm of his hand, that she was his for the taking. As he said this, I heard three clicks—one lock
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