Bleutcher disappeared under the table as if dropped through a trap door. The table went over with a crash, and the hostess toppled with it. Lennox arose triumphantly from the screaming and shouting with one black kid chiropractic oxford in his hand. He still had it, concealed under his coat, when he was deposited on the street outside The Crystal Key one minute later. It was fortunate for Lennox that the policeman had returned to his beat; otherwise he might have been seriously hurt.
He weaved downtown, searching for a phone. In the forties he passed a theater, entered the lobby and politely requested to be directed to a booth. He was informed that the telephones were inside the theater. He puzzled this out and with a flash of logic that delighted him, reasoned that he needed a ticket to make the phone call. There were no tickets left but he was sold standing room admission. Lennox tip-toed into the theater, went down to the men's lounge and called The Brompton House. After some hanky-panky, Olga answered the phone.
"Your father," Lennox said, "is a rogue."
"My father," Olga replied, "is a pain in the ass."
"No longer. You are revenged." Lennox described his triumph. Olga began to scream with laughter.
"Does he know it was you?" she asked.
"Couldn't say. What are you doing up in the hotel?"
"Having dinner in the suite. I got so fed up with him I played sick. What are you going to do about it?"
Lennox hesitated and then thought: "Oh, what the hell!" He said: "I was thinking of bringing his shoe back."
"Lovely. Wait for me downstairs in the bar."