"Yeah, poor Herby," Herb said with every appearance of tiredness and defeat. "But—that's that. Sorry to have gotten you all excited about nothing, Joe. Guess it was too much to expect anything." He turned to Dotty. "As long as we're out here, let's take a walk by ourselves. Huh?"
That was as obvious a cue as I had ever been handed. Neat. I was confronted with the alternatives of scramming or calling him a liar.
"Guess I might as well go back to the hotel," I said cheerfully. "See you in the morning."
I headed back the way we had come until I was sure they couldn't hear me or see me with their black light pencils. Then, ducking down next to a marker I waited. After a couple of minutes I heard cautious footsteps.
"It's me, Joe—Steve."
"Good," I grunted. "What are they doing now? They gave me the brush-off."
"I got the play," Steve said. "Slick. Should we close in now, or wait?"
"I think I'll play my part a little further. Don't want C.I. to think we're timid."
"Okay," Steve said. "The next funeral we attend may be our own."
"Yeah," I said. "It might."