Her mouth tightened and the smile went away.
“Can you be bought? I was told you were one of those clean, simple, non-grafting characters. I was particularly advised not to offer you money.”
I reached for a cigarette.
“I thought we had agreed we didn’t believe all we heard,” I said, leaning forward to offer the cigarette. She took it, so I had to reach for another. Lighting hers caused me another stab of pain in the head and didn’t improve my temper.
“It could be a proposition,” she said, leaning back and blowing smoke at the ceiling. “How much?”
“What are you trying to buy?”
She studied the cigarette as if she hadn’t seen one before, said, without looking at me, “I don’t want trouble. You’re making trouble. I might pay you to stop.”
“What’s it worth?”
She looked at me then.
“You know you’re a big disappointment to me. You’re just like any of the other slimy little blackmailers.”