"Search me."
"You okay?"
"More or less."
"Can you keep him talking? We're rigging a net in the apartment below there. We've got a couple of experts on the way, besides. Leave this door ajar—so they can get to your bedroom."
I nodded.
They slipped away.
Paul asked, when I came back, "Who was it?"
"The maid."
He accepted that.
"Cigarette?"