We pushed our way through the crowd to the stairs.
‘You have quite a way with you when you’re aroused,’ I said as we mounted the stairs.
I can take care of myself. The bigger they are the softer the centre. I haven’t kicked around with men all my life for nothing.’ There was a cold, brooding look on her face. The barman says Betillo’s got a poker game up here in half an hour.’
‘Will he tip him?’
She shook her head.
‘He’s a friend of mine. What do we do? Wait until he shows and grab him?’
‘Let’s look the territory over first.’
We reached the head of the stairs. Before us stretched a long passage, lined on either side by doors.
‘Room 15,’ Myra said, walked along the passage, paused outside a door, turned the handle and pushed the door open. She groped for the light switch, turned it on and we went in together.
The room was big. Under green-shaded lights was a round table, equipped with decks of playing cards and two wooden racks containing poker chips. There were about ten chairs grouped round the table; a couple of brass spittoons completed the furnishing.