“It’s no secret,” I said. “I mean the check, not the runs. Noonan’s got it.”

She looked at Rolff, who stopped watching me long enough to nod once.

“If you talked my language,” she drawled, looking narrow-eyed at me, “I might be able to give you some help.”

“Maybe if I knew what it was.”

“Money,” she explained, “the more the better. I like it.”

I became proverbial:

“Money saved is money earned. I can save you money and grief.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” she said, “though it sounds like it’s meant to.”

“The police haven’t asked you anything about the check?”