“I was afraid to.”
“Didn’t I tell you we’d take care of your end?”
“I’ve had promises like that before. They weren’t always remembered.”
“But our office never made you that promise before, Miss Verriner.”
The woman let her eyes rest on his impassive face.
“That’s true, I admit. But I must also admit I know Jim Blake. We’d better not come together again, Blake and me, after this week.”
She was pulling off her gloves as she spoke. She suddenly threw them down on the table. “There’s just one thing I want to know, and know for certain. I want to know if this is a plant to shoot Blake up?”
The First Deputy smiled. It was not altogether at the mere calmness with which she could suggest such an atrocity.
“Hardly,” he said.
“Then what is it?” she demanded.