Kells nodded without speaking, without looking at him. Hesse laughed, a high dry cackle.
MacAlmon glanced at Crotti, then stopped his pacing, spoke to Kells: “She is here.” He raised his eyes to the balcony that ran across half one side of the room. He called: “Shorty.”
One of the three doors on the balcony opened and a squat over-dressed Filipino came out and leaned on the balustrade. He tipped his bright green velours hat to the back of his head, stared coldly, expressionlessly at MacAlmon. MacAlmon said: “Bring her down.” The Filipino went back into the room and then came into the doorway with Granquist.
Her hair was loose, hung in straw-colored and angular disorder over her shoulders. Her eyes were wide, unseeing. A white silk handkerchief had been stuffed into her mouth, and her hands were knotted behind her back.
Kells said: “Take that god-damned gag out of her mouth.” He spoke almost without moving his lips.
Beery stood up.
“I am very sorry.” Crotti spoke sidewise to Kells. “She raised a lot of hell...” He nodded to the Filipino.
The Filipino reached up delicately and flicked the handkerchief out of her mouth by one corner. She caught her breath sharply; her eyes rolled up whitely for a second then she closed them and swayed sideways with one hip against the balustrade.
Kells stood up slowly.
Crotti said: “Sit down.”