"Well, we could go to a double feature and kill the afternoon that way. Or we could go up and visit this Lasseroe."
Mogin shrugged.
It was a new apartment house near Morningside Heights. It was elegant and smooth and important.
"Do I wait?" Mogin said.
"Maybe you better come in with me."
They went in and rang Lasseroe's number and he must have been expecting somebody because he buzzed an answer right away and the door opened. When Frey and Mogin stepped out of the elevator, Lasseroe was standing at the door of his apartment and when he saw them he expected them to walk right by. But they came up to him.
He was a man of medium height and he had a good build for a man of forty-five. He had a square, rigid-boned face, and deep-set dark grey eyes, and a good head of black hair threaded with silver. He was wearing a long collared silk shirt and an expensive cravat and an expensive silk lounging robe.
"Hello, Lasseroe," Frey said.
"I beg your pardon—"