"Oh, are they after you, too?"
"They've been after me for a long time. Your picture looks very attractive, Miss Harris."
"Thank you."
"Do you like music?"
"Yes, I do."
A few minutes later he tip-toed into the living room. The film was still playing, the persuasive voice still speaking. Now it was martial music and there were flags all over, waving, inspiring.
It takes two, Westing thought. Alone they were getting me. But the two of us together will be stronger.
He bent over the couch. The boy was asleep and dreaming. His face looked peaceful.
Mr. Westing turned on a record. It was an unexpurgated reading of The Arabian Nights. He placed the speaker close to the boy's ear.
Then he got dressed and went out to meet Marline. He had beaten them once again. Maybe they'd get him someday, but way down deep he didn't believe it.