“Yes.”
Clifford was silent a moment.
“You have told Mr. Loveman and Mr. Bradley of your intention to consult me?”
“No.”
“I suggest that you do not. Is there any other information you can give me?”
“Nothing else that’s definite. But I suspect a lot, and I want to find out what’s doing. Will you take the case?”
Clifford spoke guardedly, masking his dislike for the ruthless man before him. “I prefer not to consider myself retained by you until I am certain I can serve you. I’ll have to think the situation over, and let you know later.”
It was little that Mr. Morton had told Clifford, yet, after Morton had left him, that little set Clifford’s mind going like a racer. He sat thinking—thinking; and after a time he began to perceive dim outlines of what Loveman’s plan might be. And as with growing excitement he began to see, he began also to consider what his own course should be....
He looked at his watch. It was half-past three. He started back for the Gold Room, but on the way up he saw Loveman and his party leaving. He quickly secured his coat and hat and followed them out just in time to see Loveman go off in a taxi with Nina Cordova. He was after them in another taxi, a discreet block behind. Five minutes later Loveman set Miss Cordova down at her hotel, and went on to his own home.
Clifford dismissed his taxi, waited ten minutes, then crossed and entered Loveman’s apartment house.