“ineedanotherdrink,”isaid,andwavedatthewaiter.“ifeelanicybreathonthebackofmyneck.couldyoubyanychanceberelatedtothepotterfamily,mrs.loring?”

“sylvialennoxwasmysister,”shesaidsimply.“ithoughtyouwouldknow.”

thewaiterdriftedoverandigavehimanurgentmessage.mrs.loringshookherheadandsaidshedidn’twantanythingmore.whenthewaitertookoffisaid:

“withthehusholdmanpotter—excuseme,mr.harlanpotter—putonthisaffair,iwouldbeluckytoknowforsurethatterry’swifeevenhadasister.”

“surelyyouexaggerate.myfatherishardlythatpowerful,mr.marlowe—andcertainlynotthatruthless.i’lladmithedoeshaveveryold-fashionedideasabouthispersonalprivacy.henevergivesinterviewseventohisownnewspapers.heisneverphotographed,henevermakesspeeches,hetravelsmostlybycarorinhisownplanewithhisowncrew.butheisquitehumanforallthat.helikedterry.hesaidterrywasagentlemantwenty-fourhoursadayinsteadofforthefifteenminutesbetweenthetimetheguestsarriveandthetimetheyfeeltheirfirstcocktail.”

“heslippedalittleattheend.terrydid.”

thewaitertrottedupwithmythirdgimlet.itrieditforflavorandthensattherewithafingerontheedgeoftheroundbaseoftheglass.

“terry’sdeathwasquiteablowtohim,mr.marlowe.andyou’regettingsarcasticagain.pleasedon’t.fatherknewitwouldalllookfartooneattosomepeople.hewouldmuchratherterryhadjustdisappeared.ifterryhadaskedhimforhelp,ithinkhewouldhavegivenit.”

“ohno,mrs.loring.hisowndaughterhadbeenmurdered.”

shemadeanirritablemotionandeyedmecoldly.

“thisisgoingtosoundprettyblunt,i’mafraid.fatherhadwrittenmysisterofflongago.whentheymethebarelyspoketoher.ifheexpressedhimself,whichhehasn’tandwon’t,ifeelsurehewouldbejustasdoubtfulaboutterryasyouare.butonceterrywasdead,whatdiditmatter?theycouldhavebeenkilledinaplanecrashorafireorahighwayaccident.ifshehadtodie,itwasthebestpossibletimeforhertodie.inanothertenyearsshewouldhavebeenasex-riddenhaglikesomeofthesefrightfulwomenyouseeathollywoodparties,orusedtoafewyearsback.thedregsoftheinternationalset.”

allofasuddenigotmad,fornogoodreason.istoodupandlookedoverthebooth.thenextonewasstillempty.intheonebeyondaguywasreadingapaperallbyhimself,quietly.isatdownwithabump,pushedmyglassoutoftheway,andleanedacrossthetable.ihadsenseenoughtokeepmyvoicedown.

“forhell’ssake,mrs.loring,whatareyoutryingtosellme?thatharlanpotterissuchasweetlovelycharacterhewouldn’tdreamofusinghisinfluenceonapoliticaltodroptheblanketonamurderinvestigationsothatthemurderwasneverreallyinvestigatedatall?thathehaddoubtsaboutterry’sguiltbutdidn’tletanyoneliftafingertofindoutwhowasreallythekiller?thathedidn’tusethepoliticalpowerofhisnewspapersandhisbankaccountandtheninehundredguyswhowouldtripovertheirchinstryingtoguesswhathewanteddonebeforeheknewhimself?thathedidn’tarrangeitsothatatamelawyerandnobodyelse,nobodyfromthe’sofficeorthecitycops,wentdowntomexicotomakesureterryactuallyhadputasluginhisheadinsteadofbeingknockedoffbysomeindianwithahotgunjustforkicks?youroldmanisworthahundredmillionbucks,mrs.loring.iwouldn’tknowjusthowhegotit,butiknowdamnwellhedidn’tgetitwithoutbuildinghimselfaprettyfar-reachingorganization.he’snosoftie.he’sahardtoughman.you’vegottobeinthesedaystomakethatkindofmoney.andyoudobusinesswithsomefunnypeople.youmaynotmeetthemorshakehandswiththem,buttheyarethereonthefringedoingbusinesswithyou.”

“you’reafool,”shesaidangrily.“i’vehadenoughofyou.”

“ohsure.idon’tmakethekindofmusicyouliketohear.letmetellyousomething.terrytalkedtoyouroldmanthenightsylviadied.whatabout?whatdidyouroldmansaytohim?‘justrunondowntomexicoandshootyourself,oldboy.let’skeepthisinthefamily.iknowmydaughterisatrampandthatanyoneofadozendrunkenbastardsmighthaveblownhistopandpushedherprettyfacedownherthroatforher.butthat’sincidental,oldboy.theguywillbesorrywhenhesobersup.you’vehaditsoftandnowisthetimeyoupayback.whatwewantistokeepthefairpotternameassweetasmountainlilac.shemarriedyoubecausesheneededafront.sheneedsitworsethanevernowshe’sdead.andyou’reit.ifyoucangetlostandstaylost,fine.butifyougetfound,youcheckout.seeyouinthemorgue.’”

“doyoureallythink,”thewomaninblackaskedwithdryiceinhervoice,“thatmyfathertalkslikethat?”

ileanedbackandlaughedunpleasantly.“wecouldpolishupthedialoguealittleifthathelps.”

shegatheredherstufftogetherandslidalongtheseat.“i’dliketogiveyouawordofwarning,”shesaidslowlyandverycarefully,“averysimplewordofwarning.ifyouthinkmyfatheristhatkindofmanandifyougoaroundbroadcastingthekindofthoughtsyouhavejustexpressedtome,yourcareerinthiscityinyourbusinessorinanybusinessisapttobeextremelyshortandterminatedverysuddenly.”

“perfect,mrs.loring,perfect.igetitfromthelaw,igetitfromthehoodlumelement,igetitfromthecarriagetrade.thewordschange,butthemeaningisthesame.layoff.icameinheretodrinkagimletbecauseamanaskedmeto.nowlookatme.i’mpracticallyintheboneyard.”

shestoodupandnoddedbriefly.“threegimlets.doubles.perhapsyou’redrunk.”

idroppedtoomuchmoneyonthetableandstoodupbesideher.“youhadoneandahalf,mrs.loring.whyeventhatmuch?didamanaskyoutoo,orwasitallyourownidea?yourowntonguegotalittleloose.”

“whoknows,mr.marlowe?whoknows?whoreallyknowsanything?there’samanoverthereatthebarwatchingus.woulditbeanyoneyouknow?”

ilookedaround,surprisedthatshehadnoticed.aleandarkcharactersatontheendstoolnearestthedoor.

“hisnameischickagostino,”isaid.“he’saguntoterforagamblingboynamedmenendez.let’sknockhimdownandjumponhim.”

“youcertainlyaredrunk,”shesaidquicklyandstartedtowalk.iwentafterher.themanonthestoolswungaroundandlookedtohisfront.whenicameabreastisteppedupbehindhimandreachedinunderbothhisarmsquickly.maybeiwasalittledrunk.

heswungaroundangrilyandslidoffthestool.“watchit,kiddo,”hesnarled.outofthecornerofmyeyeisawthatshehadstoppedjustinsidethedoortoglanceback.

“noguns,mr.agostino?howrecklessofyou.it’salmostdark.whatifyoushouldrunintoatoughmidget?”

“scram!”hesaidsavagely.

“aw,youstolethatlinefromthenewyorker.”

hismouthworkedbuthedidn’tmove.ilefthimandfollowedmrs.loringoutthroughthedoorintothespaceundertheawning.agray-hairedcoloredchauffeurstoodtheretalkingtothekidfromtheparkinglot.hetouchedhiscapandwentoffandcamebackwithaflossycadillaclimousine.heopenedthedoorandmrs.loringgotin.heshutthedoorasthoughhewasputtingdownthelidofajewelbox.hewentaroundthecartothedriver’sseat.

sheranthewindowdownandlookedoutatme,halfsmiling.

“goodnight,mr.marlowe.it’sbeennice—orhasit?”

“wehadquiteafight.”

“youmeanyouhad—andmostlywithyourself.”

“itusuallyis.goodnight,mrs.loring.youdon’tlivearoundhere,doyou?”

“notexactly.iliveinidlevalley.atthefarendofthelake.myhusbandisadoctor.”

“wouldyouhappentoknowanypeoplenamedwade?”

shefrowned.“yes,iknowthewades.why?”

“whydoiask?they’retheonlypeopleinidlevalleythatiknow.”

“isee.well,goodnightagain,mr.marlowe.”

sheleanedbackintheseatandthecadillacpurredpolitelyandslidawayintothetrafficalongthestrip.

turningialmostbumpedintochickagostino.

“who’sthedoll?”hesneered.“andnexttimeyoucrackwise,bemissing.”

“nobodythatwouldwanttoknowyou,”isaid.

“okay,brightboy.igotthelicensenumber.mendylikestoknowlittlethingslikethat.”

thedoorofacarbangedopenandamanaboutsevenfeethighandfourfeetwidejumpedoutofit,tookonelookatagostino,thenonelongstride,andgrabbedhimbythethroatwithonehand.

“howmanytimesigottatellyoucheaphoodsnottohangaroundwhereieat?”heroared.

heshookagostinoandhurledhimacrossthesidewalkagainstthewall.chickcrumpledupcoughing.

“nexttime,”theenormousmanyelled,“isureashellputtheblastonyou,andbelieveme,boy,you’llbeholdingagunwhentheypickyouup.”

chickshookhisheadandsaidnothing.thebigmangavemearakingglanceandgrinned.“nicenight,”hesaid,andstrolledintovictor’s.

iwatchedchickstraightenhimselfoutandregainsomeofhiscomposure.“who’syourbuddy?”iaskedhim.

“bigwilliemagoon,”hesaidthickly.“avicesquadbimbo.hethinkshe’stough.”

“youmeanheisn’tsure?”iaskedhimpolitely.

helookedatmeemptilyandwalkedaway.igotmycaroutofthelotanddrovehome.inhollywoodanythingcanhappen,anythingatall.