I love a situation like that. A big newspaper begging you to do something. That always means dough, and lots of it.
“Okay,” I said, taking the Scotch out of my pocket. Ackie fixed his eyes on it. I didn’t leave him much.
We did that trip under a hundred and fifty minutes. I was glad when they pulled the car to a standstill. Driving like that without any breakfast didn’t do me any good.
Kennedy had got a swell place, make no mistake about that. The lodge was hidden from the main road by a big belt of giant trees. The surrounding country was wild and woody. Not far from the lodge a swift river about a hundred yards wide flowed strongly, twisting through the woods like a snake.
It was the sort of place I would have bought myself if I had the dough. The sort of place Mardi and me would be happy in. Even with a big story breaking I kept linking myself with that girl.
We piled out of the car and began to walk up the narrow, wooded path that led to the lodge. We hadn’t gone far before we heard voices.
Ackie grinned a little. “The boys’ve camped out here,” he said.
He was right. We turned the sharp bend in the path and suddenly came upon the lodge and the boys. There must have been eight or nine of them hanging round the lodge, watching the windows, smoking and talking.
When they saw us they came towards us hurriedly.
Barry Hughson greeted me with an ironic cheer. “Jeeze,” he said, “you here again!”