Ken pretended he hadn’t noticed Parker’s agitation. He was entering a pile of cheques into a ledger, and having difficulty, as his band was unsteady. He said as casually as he could: “Did you get fixed up?”
“My God!” Parker gasped, wiping his face with his handkerchief. “The cops are in her place.”
Ken stiffened and dropped his pen.
“The cops?”
“Yes. Must be a raid. Suppose I had gone around there without calling her first?”
“How do you know it was the police?” Ken asked, groping on the floor for his pen.
“The guy who answered the phone said he was Lieutenant Adams of the City Police. He wanted to know who I was.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“Of course not! I hung up on him while he was talking. Phew! What the hell does it mean? I’ve never known the police raid a call-girl’s place before. They might have arrived when I was there.”
“Lucky you called first.”