Immediately, he felt much better.
"You're late," Dorothea said accusingly. "I had to come up with the duplicate key you gave me. And what are the bellboys going to think?"
"They're going to think you had a duplicate key," Malone said. "Anyhow, I'm sorry. I got delayed at the office. Burris came to town—delivering seventeen ultimatums, forty-nine conflicting sets of orders and a rousing lecture."
"I could have come up to your office, then," Dorothea said, "instead of compromising my reputation by sneaking up to your hotel room."
"And what about my reputation?" Malone said. "Besides, the office is no place for what I have in mind."
"Why, Mr. Malone!"
Malone ignored the comment. "Did you bring the notebook?" he said.
"Certainly." Dorothea handed a black, plastic-bound notebook over to Malone. "But what's all this with a notebook? Going to keep score?"
"Not exactly," Malone said. He took the notebook and leafed through it idly. It was not Mike Fueyo's book; the boy himself had that now, and there was little chance of getting it back again. This one belonged to Dorothea—but, Malone thought, it could serve the same purpose.
"What I have in mind," he said, "is something Mike said the other night, just before the cops barged in. He said something about having tried to teach you the Vanish. And that's why I asked you to come here. Did he teach you?"