He gave me an address. "Come any time," he said.
"That's me walking in," I told him.
Shari had to pay off the 'copter when we got there. It wasn't the brownstone I had seen the night before. This place was a medium-sized office building, say a hundred stories or so, quite new. There was no identification on its front other than the street number. The Directory in the silent and unpopulated lobby was names, all names. But Dr. Walter Bupp was one of them, in 7704. Shari and I rode the elevator to seventy-seven in chilly silence.
The corridor was dim, with its lights on night-time setting. Stronger light came from an open door quite a way down the hall. It had to be Bupp's office, and it was.
Wally certainly wasn't surprised to see Shari. He shook hands with her briefly, pushing his sharp chin out at her in his gamecock fashion. "Your mate?" he asked me.
"Certainly not," she told him. "We're ... uh ... colleagues at the University."
"That's not what Pheola says," he told her sourly, pointing to chairs we could take.
"Pheola?" Shari questioned.
"A powerful PC," Wally said. "She predicted you would accompany Tex tonight."