A blast of cloying perfume enveloped him as he stepped into the room, and he grimaced.
Flo Presser was pacing up and down, a cigarette between her scarlet lips. She was a good-looking girl, around twenty-five, with a provocative figure, brassy blonde hair and big money-hungry eyes.
She swung around as Conrad came in. Her full skirt swirled out and then moulded itself for a brief moment around her long slender thighs.
“Hello, Flo,” Conrad said. He had met her often enough in the court room. She was regularly arrested for soliciting, and she had got to know most of the officials connected with the court. “What’s on your mind?”
“Gee! Mr. Conrad,” Flo said, coming over to him. “I didn’t think you’d mind me coming like this. I’m worried stiff. I know I shouldn’t be bothering you. I know how busy you are. I thought I’d go nuts last night wondering about Toni, and this morning…”
“Okay, skip the song and dance,” Conrad said impatiently. He sat on the edge of the table. “You shouldn’t have come here, Flo, but now you’re here, let’s keep it brief. What makes you so sure Toni hasn’t walked out on you?”
Flo’s big brown eyes opened wide.
“Walked out on me? Why, Mr. Conrad, he wouldn’t do that. Besides, I know he hasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
She hesitated, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes.