The boy blushed, said, “Go to hell!” adjusted his necktie, and set off to meet Hook.
I had some reports to write. After I had finished them I put my feet on my desk, made cavities in a package of Fatimas, and thought about Tom-Tom Carey until six o’clock. Then I went down to the States for my abalone chowder and minute steak and home to change clothes before going out Sea Cliff way to sit in a poker game.
The telephone interrupted my dressing. Jack Counihan was on the other end.
“I’m in Sausalito. The girl wasn’t Nancy, but I’ve got hold of something else. I’m not sure how to handle it. Can you come over?”
“Is it important enough to cut a poker game for?”
“Yes, it’s—I think it’s big.” He was excited. “I wish you would come over. I really think it’s a lead.”
“Where are you?”
“At the ferry there. Not the Golden Gate, the other.”
“All right. I’ll catch the first boat.”