She took her drink and sat down. She raised the glass to her mouth. “Hey, hey.” They all drank.
Granquist took a sack of Durham, papers out of her bag, rolled a cigarette.
Fenner said: “Of course I can’t enter into a proposition involving so much money without knowing definitely what I’m getting.”
“You put twenty-five thousand dollars in cash on the line and you get enough to put the election on ice.” Kells got up and went over to one of the windows. He turned, went on very earnestly: “And it’s a hell of a long ways from that now.”
Fenner pursed his lips, smiled a little. “Well — now...”
“And it’s got to be done tonight.”
Granquist got up and put her empty glass on the table.
Fenner said: “Help yourself, help yourself.”
She filled the two glasses on the table with whiskey and ice and White Rock. She said: “Do you let strangers use your bathroom?”
Fenner took her through the hallway to the bedroom and turned on the light in the bath, came back and sat down and picked up the telephone, asked for a Mister Dillon. When the connection was made, he said: “I want you to bring up the yellow sealed envelope that’s in the safe... Yes, please — and bring it yourself.” He hung up and turned to Kells. “All right,” he said, “I’ll play.”