He smiled. “Would you have known me?”
“Not from Adam,” I said, both to humor him and because it was true.
IX
I wouldn’t want to exaggerate how brave I am. It wasn’t that I was too damn fearless to be impressed by the fact that I was thoroughly tied up and the strangler was standing there smiling at me: I was simply astounded. It was an amazing disguise. The two main changes were the eyebrows and eyelashes; these eyes had bushy brows and long thick lashes, whereas yesterday’s guest hadn’t had much of either one. The real change was from the inside. I had seen no smile on the face of yesterday’s guest, but if I had it wouldn’t have been like this one. The hair made a difference too, of course, parted on the side and slicked down.
He pulled the other straight chair around and sat. I admired the way he moved. That in itself could have been a dead giveaway, but the movements fitted the getup to a T. Finding the light straight in his eyes, he shifted the chair a little.
“So she told you about me?” he said, making it a question.
It was the voice he had used on the phone. It was actually different, pitched lower for one thing, but with it, as with the face and movements, the big change was from the inside. The voice was stretched tight, and the palms of his gloved hands were pressed against his kneecaps with the fingers straight out.
I said, “Yes,” and added conversationally, “When you saw her go in the office why didn’t you follow her in? Why did you wait?”
“That isn’t—” he said, and stopped.
I waited politely.