"Not yet. These things take time. Well, then I had some supper and came here. Wasn't open yet, but they were making ready. Someone will have to meet my expense account, twenty-five good dollars to grease my way in and learn something."
"I can," said Corinna.
"Not you, Miss Lombardi. Most especially not you." Yamamura fumbled with his pipe; he was all at once an unhappy man. "Must I say it?"
Her eyes closed again, a flicker of aloneness. Then: "Please. It's better now, isn't it, than later from someone else?"
"A couple of strangers were in here last Thursday night. They introduced themselves to Guido, stood him drinks, talked at length. All this was noticed by the bartender, without any special interest, simply because it was a slack midweek night. He didn't hear what was said. After closing time, Guido went out with them.
"The description of one of those birds answers moderately well to Bob's description of Larkin."
Corinna shook herself, as if something rode her neck. "Is that all?" she asked.
"Yes."
"It could be worse," she said. "We already know he knows Larkin."
"What did the other man look like?" asked Kintyre.