“I’m not kidding myself,” I said, watching the road unreel beneath the head-lights. “Those two are dangerous, vicious. That’s why I ducked out of sight. Maybe I was a fool. I should have put you somewhere safe and gone after them. Now we’re stuck. This case is going to get a hell of a lot of publicity. We’ll be in the papers. As soon as Lois knows where we are, she and Bat will start something or my guess is all wrong. That’s why I gave a wrong name and smashed that plate. It’ll give us a little time to make up our minds what to do.”
“I know what I’m going to do,” she said in a steady voice, “I’m not giving up our home for them. I’m not scared as long as you’re with me.”
It was what I hoped she would say, but for all that, I had an uneasy feeling that our spell of peace was coming to an end.
4
We read in the morning’s newspaper that Clem Kuntz, the shrewdest criminal lawyer on the Pacific Coast, was handling Lydia Hamilton’s defence. I expected he’d call on us. He did.
He arrived as I was going off duty. I thought he was a customer when I saw the big Lincoln roll up the driveway, but I soon found out different.
“I want to talk to you,” he said, getting out of the car. “I’m Kuntz. Maybe you’ve heard of me.”
I had heard of him all right, even before he had taken charge of the Gray Howard Slaying, as the newspapers called it. Gray Howard was the name of the man in the white dinner-jacket. He turned out to be a big-shot movie director.
I eyed Kuntz over. He was a squat square man with a mulberry coloured face. He had the hardest eyes I’d ever seen in a man’s face, and he gave me the full benefit of them. I stared right back at him, said: “Go ahead. I can give you a couple of minutes, then I want my supper.”
He shook his head. “A couple of minutes won’t do,” he said. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk. You’d better play with me, Cain. I could put you in a hell of a spot if I felt that way.”