“What do we do then?”
There he had me.
“You either want to see this guy or you don’t,” Skinny explained patiently. “Seeing how you got that gun out, I guess he must know you. I don’t blame him wanting your hands arranged for.” He turned his palms up. “Make up your mind.”
I put the gun back in the holster, took off my hat and raincoat and hung them on a hook on the wall, moved one of the straight chairs so the light wouldn’t glare in my eyes, and sat.
“Okay,” I told them, “but by God don’t overdo it. I know my way around and I can find you if I care enough, don’t think I can’t.”
They unrolled the cord, cutting pieces off, and went to work. W-J tied my left wrist to the rear left leg of the chair while Skinny did the right. They were both thorough, but to my surprise Skinny was rougher. I insisted it was too tight, and he gave a stingy thirty-second of an inch. They wanted to do my ankles the same way, to the bottoms of the front legs of the chair, but I claimed I would get cramps sitting like that, and I was already fastened to the chair, and it would be just as good to tie my ankles together. They discussed it, and I had my way. Skinny made a final inspection of the knots and then went over me. He took the gun from my shoulder holster and tossed it on the bed, made sure I didn’t have another one, and left the room.
W-J picked up the gun and scowled at it. “These goddam things,” he muttered. “They make more trouble.” He went to the table and put the gun down on it, tenderly, as if it were something that might break. Then he crossed to the bed and stretched out on it.
“How long do we have to wait?” I asked.
“Not long. I wasn’t to bed last night.” He closed his eyes.
He got no nap. His barrel chest couldn’t have gone up and down more than a dozen times before the door opened and Skinny came in. With him was a man in a gray pin-stripe suit and a dark gray Homburg, with a gray topcoat over his arm. He had gloves on. W-J got off the bed and onto his toothpick legs. Skinny stood by the open door. The man put his hat and coat on the bed, came and took a look at my fastenings, and told Skinny, “All right, I’ll come for you.” The two rummies departed, shutting the door. The man stood facing me, looking down at me, and I looked back.