“Thanks.”
I went on to where Duran was stalling with an eye on the elevators.
“Shown yet?” I asked.
“No.”
“Good. The redhead on the switchboard just told me he had a phone call to meet a man at Kearny and Broadway. I think I’ll beat him to it.”
Around the corner from the hotel, I climbed into my coupe and drove down to the Frenchman’s corner.
The Cadillac he had used that afternoon was already there, with a new license plate. I passed it and took a look at its one occupant—a thickset man of forty-something with a cap pulled low over his eyes. All I could see of his features was a wide mouth slanting over a heavy chin.
I put the coupe in a vacant space down the street a way. I didn’t have to wait long for the Frenchman. He came around the corner afoot and got into the Cadillac. The man with the big chin drove. They went slowly up Broadway. I followed.