"Once. She doesn't like you."
"Ever receive any reports in Miami about her?"
"You know I can't answer that question, Hall."
"O.K. That means—oh, I guess it means that you got reports that she sleeps around plenty. But her political life is more important to G-2 than her sex didoes."
"Gossip?"
"Fact. She's secretly engaged to be married to the man who killed Fielding. The Marques de Runa. But don't worry—he'll never be brought to trial for it. He's in Spain. Left by Clipper over a week ago with his chauffeur, the man who actually ran poor Fielding down."
The officer from Miami laid his pipe down on the desk. "This is pretty serious," he said. "I don't want to get it all by ear, old man. Would you mind talking while it was taken down? Not only about Margaret Skidmore. About everything you can give your Uncle about the Falange? Facts, names, addresses, opinions—the works. I brought a young lieutenant with me from Miami; he was a crack stenographer in civilian life. How about spending a few hours with us?"
"Sure. I can give you the rest of the day, if you like."
"I'd like it fine. But if you don't mind—not here."
"O.K. Dr. Gonzales' house. It's on the outskirts of the city, and we'd be alone."