“Know about Lee Curtis?” Her eyebrows shot up. “Plenty.”
I danced her round the room again and then the record finished. “Suppose we go out into the kitchen and have a drink?”
“That’s what I like about you. You anticipate my thoughts.”
We slipped out of the room and into the kitchen. It was in complete darkness, but I knew where Hughson had left his torch. She held the light while I fixed a Bacardi cocktail. Then we sat down on the table with the torch between us.
“I’m interested in this guy Curtis,” I said. “Suppose you tell me about him.”
She sipped the Bacardi thoughtfully. “There isn’t anything to tell. He’s got some dough, likes a good time, runs around with anything easy and changes his bedfellow once a week.”
I wondered what the hell Mardi was doing with him. You can tell if a girl’s a tramp more times than not, and I was prepared to swear that Mardi was on the level.
“What’s he do for a living?” I said.
“Oh, he’s something big in the Mackenzie Fabrics. Secretary of the company or something. Do you mind not talking about him any more… I’m getting bored.”
“Sure, that’s all right,” I said.