He had another drink, and didn't get any further on that one.
It was later still when the telephone rang.
He had an electric moment as he went to answer it. He knew that the call had to have some bearing on the case, since he had no personal friends in Galveston; but the exquisite suspense was in wondering — who? A soft-pedaling politician? A raging King-lake? Or the first nibble at his bait?
It was a voice that he knew, even if he had not known it long — a deep musical voice with appealing foreign inflections.
"You aren't only handsome, but you have talent," she said. "Why didn't you tell me you were a writer too?"
"My union doesn't allow it."
"Am I going to see you again? I'd like to very much."
He reached for a cigarette.
"I'm flattered. But I've only just paid one installment on the Blue Goose."
"I don't have to be there till ten. What are you doing for dinner?"