He swung his chair around in a smooth half-arc so that he was no longer facing me. He could watch my movements from the corner of his eye. I pulled on the cigar. His voice dropped to a slightly mocking banter.
“I have absolutely no fear of your speaking out of turn, sir. None at all. If you will forgive me for trespassing upon your privacy, I must inform you that I have taken the liberty of checking on you. You understand, surely. When I was informed that you were downstairs it became necessary to know all about you. You realize that, of course.”
“Of course,” I echoed dryly.
“Good. I felt sure you wouldn’t mind. I know
“You should be in my business.”
“Thank you.” And he meant it. He swung around to me again. “However, I still believe it wise to abandon that particular corner. And I must ask you to give me your word you will not attempt to enter this establishment again.”
The request implied I was to be turned loose, which made me feel much better, so I supplemented, “Unless I’m invited.”
His smile was icy, his manner superior and sure. “You won’t be.” And then he struck off at a tangent.
“I must admit to no small curiosity concerning your unexpected presence here. A detective on these premises is a rare thing. I don’t recall it ever happening before. May I inquire if you are at work?”
“You may, and I’m not. The doll surprised me with the pick-up job. I came along for the ride,” I lied, “because she was nice looking.”
“There exists,” he insisted, edging forward, “not the slightest possibility your being here
“None whatsoever,” I stated flatly. “I didn’t know the joint existed until the Judge opened the door.”
“Ah, yes.” He relaxed with a satisfied suavity. “Still another error. That two such could happen in one evening almost pushes the incident beyond the bounds of chance, does it not? The Judge isn’t in the habit of making mistakes. He was a trifle taken aback when I told him.”
I began to have the feeling that there was more here than met my eye, but couldn’t identify the hunch.
“Everyone makes mistakes,” I countered. “That’s what keeps me going in my business. You told him what?”
“What a gullible chap he had been. But I am inclined to forgive him this once. Yours was a subtle deception.”
“There wasn’t much else he could do,” I offered in the old boy’s defense. “He certainly didn’t want me lighting matches out there all night.”
“That is correct.”
“I suppose he’s sore about it. I would be in his place. And he’d probably like to take a poke at me.”
“That too is correct.”
I grinned. “I’ll make it a point to stay out of his way after this. I wouldn’t want to tangle with him on the street.”
“Such a meeting isn’t likely to occur.”
Turning that one over the cooking fire for a second or two, I decided to show the tuxedo what a gullible chap he had been.
“I said a moment ago that everybody makes mistakes and the mistakes keep me going in business. Will you be mad if I point out the one you’ve just made?”
“I?” Incredulously.
“You. In your conversation.”
“Not at all,” he said in a curious manner. “Tell me.”
“You’ve just told me that the Judge doesn’t go downtown. Now everybody goes to town, some town. They want to see the bright lights on Saturday night. They want to buy things they don’t need in the stores. They want a place to keep their women. Therefore, the Judge and probably the rest of your crowd, hang around some other town. A large town.”
I thought it significant that he didn’t say that too was correct. Instead he settled back in his chair, apparently having no more to say.
But I did.
“Well, that brings us to the meat of the matter. What are you going to do with me?”
He stared at me, silently, for a long time. Not just minutes but a long time. There was a small electric clock on his desk, an expensive timepiece set in dark walnut that matched the furniture of the room. It made a soft whirring noise as the second hand sped around and around. He wanted me to be uncomfortable. I was. I fidgeted.
“What do you suggest I do with you?” he asked at last.
I knocked the fine white ash of the cigar into my trouser cuff. “You might drive me back to town. Or if that doesn’t appeal to you, I’ll go down to the road and thumb a ride.”
The swiftly moving sweep hand spun around the circle of the clock face several times before he answered me. I couldn’t tell whether he was still needling me, or was actually considering my proposal. It did seem unlikely that he hadn’t yet made up his mind.
“I’ll have someone drive you in, sir.”
Get that “sir” on the end. It revealed a lot. I said thanks and stood up.
The shadow who had been waiting outside the office door came in instantly. My host across the desk had neither signaled nor called. He spoke to the shadow character.
