“I think I understand.”
“Get out of town at once. Don’t form any acquaintances here. Don’t be seen around my office.”
I said, “All right. We’ll protect you at our end of the line, but be careful with those reports we’re sending.”
“That’s all arranged for,” he said.
“And you don’t know anything about this Evaline Harris?”
“Good heavens, no!”
“Well,” I told him, “it’s going to be a job. We’re working on a cold trail again.”
I understand. It’s my fault, but that’s something I’ve worried about for years, that someone might try to trace me through my professional registration. You were clever — damned clever — too damned clever.”
“One other thing,” I said. “Who would be interested in giving me a black eve because of the work I’m doing?”
“What do you mean?”