“Don’t you like private detectives?”
“It depends on — on what they’re after.”
“I’m after information about a friend.”
“I–I’m afraid I can’t help you. I—”
I heard a hinge squeak. She flashed a quick glance past me, then shifted her eyes and kept silent, waiting for something.
I said, without turning my head, “You might just as well come on over and join the party, Sid.”
I heard quick motion behind me, sensed someone standing close to the back of my chair. “Get all your cards on the table, brother,” a man’s voice said.
“All of them that concern you are on the table.”
I turned around and looked at him then. It was the man in the plaid sport coat who had been playing the quarter machine, and I noticed now he had just the trace of a cauliflower on his right ear. He was uneasy — and dangerous.
“Sit down,” I told him, “and join the party. I’m not holding anything back.”