He nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good place. Mac’s there.”
“I know, and he’s a good guy.”
“Hell! We’re all good guys. I’ll look after her,”
“I like that girl,” I said slowly. “If anything should happen to her…” I gave him the cold eye.
He nodded. “I’ll look after her,” he said
I thanked him and drove away.
Lancing Avenue was in the better-class district of Paradise Palms. It was a broad avenue lined by Royal Palms that were as straight-cut as a row of skittles.
I found the chromium and black marble apartment block without difficulty. It had a halfcircular drive to the entrance and a lot of bright lights. It looked like a Christmas tree out of season.
I drove the Mercury up the drive. A big, gaudy convertible threatened to squeeze me off the road as it passed, making a noise like snowflakes on a window. It stopped before the entrance and three dizzy-looking dames, all cigarettes, arched eyebrows and mink coatees got out and went in.
The Mercury made me fell like a poor relation calling on his rich relatives.