She vanished.
I got my jacket and went to the door. Stern was still sitting at the desk, staring.
‘A good head-shrinker,’ I murmured. I felt fine.
Outside I waited, then turned and went back in again.
Stern looked up at me. ‘Sit over there, Sonny.’
‘Gee,’ I said. ‘Sorry, sir. I got in the wrong office.’
‘That’s all right,’ he said.
I went out and closed the door. All the way down to the police station I grinned. They’d take my report on Miss Kew and like it. And sometimes I laughed, thinking about this Stern, how he’d figure the loss of an afternoon and the gain of a thousand bucks. Much funnier than thinking about him being dead.
What the hell is morality, anyway?