As Kimmensen stepped into his office, he saw Salmaggi sitting beside the desk, waiting for him. The man's broad back was toward him, and Kimmensen could not quite restrain the flicker of distaste that always came at the thought of talking to him. Of all mornings, this was a particularly bad one on which to listen to the man pour out his hysterias.
"Good morning, Tullio," he said as he crossed to his desk.
Salmaggi turned quickly in his chair. "Good morning, Josef." He jumped to his feet and pumped Kimmensen's hand. "How are you?" His bright eyes darted quickly over Kimmensen's face.
"Well, thank you. And you?"
Salmaggi dropped back into his chair. "Worried, Josef. I've been trying to see you about something very important."
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry I've been so busy."
"Yes. So I thought if you weren't too busy this morning, you might be able to spare ten minutes."
Kimmensen glanced at him sharply. But Salmaggi's moon of a face was completely clear of sarcasm or any other insinuation. There were only the worried wrinkles over the bridge of his nose and at the corners of his eyes. Kimmensen could not help thinking that Salmaggi looked like a baby confronted by the insuperable problem of deciding whether or not it wanted to go to the bathroom. "I've got a number of important things to attend to this morning, Tullio."
"Ten minutes, Josef."
Kimmensen sighed. "All right." He settled himself patiently in his chair.