I slid him the sixty and he hurriedly stuffed the notes into his pocket.
‘Sure Barrett’s out?’ I asked.
‘Yeah; I saw him go. No one’s up there.’ He looked furtively around the lobby. ‘I’m going to draw myself a can of beer. Make it snappy, and for Gawd’s sake don’t let anyone see you go in.’
I gave him a second or so to get out of sight, then leaned over the counter and unhooked the key from behind the switch-board.
The elevator took me up to the fourth floor. I walked along the corridor to apartment 4B15. In the apartment opposite someone was playing the radio. Somewhere down the passage a woman laughed shrilly. I pressed my ear to the door panel of 4B15, but heard nothing. I rapped, listened, waited, but nothing happened. I looked to right and left. No one was watching me. Silently I slipped the pass-key into the lock, turned it gently and pushed open the door.
The man in the fawn suit was sitting in an armchair facing me. He held a .45 in his lap, the barrel pointing at my chest. He gave me a thin, cold smile.
‘Come in,’ he said. ‘I thought it might be you.’
The moment I heard that deep baritone voice I knew who he was, and couldn’t understand why I hadn’t known it before.
‘Hello, Dedrick,’ I said, stepped inside the room and closed the door.