She said thank you, but she sat straight and kept her eyes open and didn’t say anything all the way to 65th Street. I was thinking that presumably I would make a night of it. Ever since she had busted in on us with the news, I had been kicking myself for having been in such a hell of a hurry to get away from 73rd Street; it had happened right there at Gebert’s car, parked in front of mine, not five minutes after I left. That had been luck for you. I could have been right there, closer than anyone else...
I didn’t get to make a night of it, either. My sojourn at the Frost apartment as Helen’s escort was short and sour. She handed me her key to the door to the entrance hall, and as soon as I got it open there stood a dick. Another one was in a chair by the mirrors. Helen and I started to go on by, but got blocked. The dick told us:
“Please wait here a minute? Both of you.”
He disappeared into the living room, and pretty soon that door opened again and Cramer entered. He looked preoccupied and unfriendly.
“Good evening, Miss Frost. Come with me, please.”
“Is my mother here? My cousin—”
“They’re all here. — All right, Goodwin, much obliged. Pleasant dreams.”
I grinned at him. “I’m not sleepy. I can stick around without interfering—”
“You can also beat it without interfering. I’ll watch you do that.”
I could tell by his tone there was no use; he would merely have gone on being adamant. I ignored him. I bowed to our client: