“Out.”
“Where did he go?”
“I didn’t ask him,” she replied, with a slight sneer.
“I wish to see him,” continued Barres patiently. 253 “Could you tell me whether he was likely to go to Grogans?”
“What’s Grogan’s?”
“Grogan’s Café on Third Avenue—where Soane hangs out,” he managed to explain calmly. “You know where it is. You have called him up there.”
“I don’t know nothin’ about it,” she grunted, resuming the greasy novel she had been reading.
But when Barres, now thoroughly incensed, turned to leave, her small, pig-like eyes peeped slyly after him. And after he had disappeared through the corridor into the street she hastily unhooked the transmitter and called Grogan’s.
“This is Martha.... Martha Kurtz. Yes, I want Frank Lehr.... Is that you, Frank?... The artist, Barres, who was pumping Soane the other night, is after him again. I told you how I listened at the door, and how I heard that Irish souse blabbing and bragging.... What?... Sure!... Barres was at the desk just now inquiring if Soane had gone to Grogan’s.... You bet!... Barres is leery since K17 hit him with a gun. Sure; he’s stickin’ his nose into everything.... Look out for him, if he comes around Grogan’s askin’ for Soane.... And say; there was a French guy here callin’ on Barres. I knew he was in, but I said he was out. I was just goin’ to call you when Barres came down.... Yes, I got his name.... Wait, I copied it out.... Here it is, ‘Georges Renoux, Architect.’ And he wrote ‘Hotel Astor’ in the corner.
“Yes, he said tell Barres to call him up. Naw, I didn’t give him the message.... You don’t say! Is that right? He’s one o’ them nosey Frenchman? A captain?... Gee!... What’s his lay?... In New York? Well, you better watch out then.... 254 Sure, I’ll ring you if he comes back!... No, there ain’t no news.... Yes, I was to the Astor grille last night, and I talked to K17.... There was a guy higher up there. I don’t know who. He looked like he was a dark complected Jew.... Ferez Bey?... Gee!... You expect Skeel? To-night? Doin’ what? You think this man Renoux is watchin’ the Clan-na-Gael? Well, you better tell Soane to shut his mouth then.