I whistled. “I’d like to read that,” I said. “Maybe I’d get something out of it too.”
He said he’d be glad to lend it to me any time, got to his feet and prepared to duck out.
“Just a second,” I said, pointing to his cocoa-coloured hat “Don’t think I’m being critical, but is it wise to wear a lid like that? There’s nothing wrong with the hat itself. It’s a pretty snappy effort, but if you’re following anyone, isn’t it a little conspicuous? You can see it a mile off.”
He positively beamed.
“That’s the idea, Mr. Cain,” he said. “This is a special line that goes with the course. Actually, it’s a trick hat.” He took the cocoa-coloured atrocity off his head, whipped off the band, gave the hat a shake and it turned inside out. He reversed the band. He now had a fawn hat with a red and yellow striped band. “Smart, isn’t it?” he said. “You see, it keeps people guessing. I personally think the hat is worth the money I paid for the whole course. It’s included in the charge.”
When he had gone, Tim said, “For crying out loud!” He reached for the Scotch and gave himself a generous shot. He shoved the bottle over to me. “Here, buck yourself up with this.”
I waved the bottle away. “Not for me,” I said. “I gotta watch my powers of observation.”
4
Early the next morning, Tim and I took a trip to Miami, some seventy miles from Paradise
Palms. We went in Tim’s Mercury convertible, and the trip didn’t take us more than ninety minutes.