His fingers were lean, hard, and strong. His smile was affable. He said, “If you have any trouble with Carmen, let me know.”
“Thanks. I don’t think I’ll have any.”
“Neither do I. Okay, Donald, be seeing you later.”
He started to walk away, then, after three steps, turned on his heel and came back. He said, “I’ll want a pretty elaborate safe, something that’s good. I suppose I can get a real good one for around two thousand dollars, can’t I?”
“A peach,” I said.
“That’s fine. You come up and look the place over and appraise my safe. I’ll want to turn it in for a trade, you know. But it’s an old bread box, and I won’t expect too much for it. I’ll be reasonable.”
“That’s fine.”
He walked over and said something to the hostess, then walked back of the cash register, pushed open the door, and went upstairs.
I got up and sauntered back towards, the kitchen. A waiter said, “The men’s room is over there to the left.”
I said, “Thanks,” and pushed my way out into the kitchen. A Negro cook looked up. I said, “Buddy, the wife just came in the front door. How do I get out?”