else would follow him?" Mitch asked.
"No one. He was a good investigator who left no trail. I mean, he was an ex-cop and an ex-con. He was very street-smart. He got paid to follow people and collect dirt. No one followed him. Never."
"So who killed him?"
"Whoever was following him. The paper made like he got caught snooping on some rich guy and was wasted. It's not true."
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, she produced a filter-tip 1000 and shot a flame at the end. Mitch rolled down the window.
"Mind if I smoke?" she asked.
"No, just blow it that way," he said, pointing to her window.
"Anyway, I'm scared. Eddie was convinced the people following you are extremely dangerous and extremely smart. Very sophisticated, was what he said. And if they killed him, what about me? Maybe they think I know something. I haven't been to the office since the day he was killed. Don't plan to go back."
"I wouldn't if I were you."
"I'm not stupid. I worked for him for two years and learned a lot. There's a lot of nuts out there. We saw all kinds."
"How did they shoot him?"
"He's got a friend in Homicide. Guy told me confidentially that Eddie got hit three times in the back of the head, point-blank range, with a .22 pistol. And they don't have a clue. He told me it was a very clean, professional job."
Mitch finished the longneck and laid the bottle on the floorboard with a half dozen empty beer cans. A very clean, professional job.
"It doesn't make sense," she repeated. "I mean, how could anyone sneak up behind Eddie, somehow get in the back seat and shoot him three times in the back of the head? And he wasn't even supposed to be there."
"Maybe he fell asleep and they ambushed him."
"No. He took all kinds of speed when he worked late at night. Stayed wired."
"Are there any records at the oflice?"
"You mean about you?"
"Yeah, about me."
"I doubt it. I never saw nothing in writing. He said you wanted it that way."
"That's right," Mitch said with relief.
They watched a 727 lift off to the north. The parking lot vibrated.
"I'm really scared, Mitch. Can I call you Mitch?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"I think he got killed because of the work he did for you. That's all it could be. And if they'd kill him because he knew something, they probably assume I know it too. What do you think?"
"I wouldn't take any chances."
"I might disappear for a while. My husband does a little nightclub work, and we can get mobile if we have to. I haven't told him all this, but I guess I have to. What do you think?"
"Where would you go?"
"Little Rock, St. Louis, Nashville. He's laid off, so we can move around, I guess." Her words trailed off. She lit another one.
A very clean, professional job, Mitch repeated to himself. He glanced at her and noticed a small tear on her cheek. She was not ugly, but the years in lounges and nightclubs were taking their toll. Her features were strong, and minus the bleach and heavy makeup she would be somewhat attractive for her age. About forty, he guessed.
She took a mighty drag and sent a cloud of smoke surging from the Rabbit. "I guess we're in the same boat, aren't we? I mean, they're after both of us. They've killed all those lawyers, now Eddie, and I guess we're next."
Don't hold back, baby, just blurt it out. "Look, let's do this. We need to keep in touch. You can't call me on the phone, and we can't be seen together. My wife knows everything, and I'll tell her about this little meeting. Don't worry about her. Once a week, write me a note and tell me where you are. What's your mother's name?"
"Doris."
"Good. That's your code name. Sign the name Doris on anything you send me."
"Do they read your mail too?"
"Probably so, Doris, probably so."
Chapter 19
At five P.M., Mitch turned off the light in his office, grabbed both briefcases and stopped at Nina's desk. Her phone was glued to one shoulder while she typed on the IBM. She saw him and reached in a drawer for an envelope. "This is your confirmation at the Capital Hilton," she said into the receiver.
"The dictation is on my desk," he said. "See you Monday." He took the stairs to the fourth floor, to Avery's office in the corner, where a small riot was in progress. One secretary stuffed files into a massive briefcase.