My head had cleared now. “This,” I said, “is going to cost somebody money.”
“Okay, let it cost. Come on and take a ride. We want to show you our city. Coming in on the afternoon plane the way you did, you haven’t had a chance to see it.”
The big hand of the law caught my coat again, started pushing me toward the door.
The manager said, “Wait a minute, Bill,” and to me, “What’s your name?”
“Lam — Donald Lam. I’m in business in Los Angeles.”
“What sort of business?”
“I don’t care to tell you that.”
They laughed then.
I said to the officer, “You’ll find a card in the wallet in my right-hand hip pocket, but don’t read it out loud.”
The officer pulled a wallet out of my pocket, opened it, and took a look at my identification card as a private detective. That sobered him. He showed the wallet to the manager. I saw the manager’s face change expression.