this lead you gave me I’ve got to check, and—well, I just can’t.”

“Jack Herron. This will be on me. My expense account. Come on, now, you just suffer from lead in your pants. What do you say?”

“I’m not a drinking man.”

“Sure, Jackie. Uh—I bet you never did see a movie star in real life.”

“The hell with movie stars.”

“O.K., forget they’re movie stars. They still got the most beautiful rear ends, the most monumental chests. I’m talking about the female ones, of course.”

“No, I don’t think so, Larry. Ah, when are you going, anyway?”

“Meet me at nine. At the paper. You know my office. And then we’ll talk some more. Who knows, something might turn up during the night. I pick up the cu-rayziest items, you know.”

“Don’t I. O.K, Larry, at nine.”

“So long, Investigator.”

Before Herron left the office for the day he went to the communications room again.

“Nothing for me?” he asked the girl who was sorting message sheets at a long table.

“Nothing here,” she said. “But let me check in the back.”

She smiled at Herron and got up. He watched her walk the length of the room, paying close attention to the way her hips moved. But then he looked away, worrying about Chief Jones’s answer to his teletype. Was he going to be pulled off the assignment? Better let Jones know about Larry’s lead right away. Perhaps it did mean something.

Then he saw the girl come back. This time he watched her front move.

“Nothing yet, Mr. Herron…Mr. Herron, I said—”

“Ah, yes, fine. Will you take something down for me, for teletype?”

“Of course, Mr. Herron.”

She sat down and picked up pencil and message form. Herron watched her bare arm as she made date, hour, and name entries. She had a nice brown arm.

“The message, Mr. Herron?”

“Of course. Uh—where’d you get that nice tan so early in the year?”

“Santa Monica, the beach. It’s not really so early in the year for us.”

“Oh, I see. Very nice tan. You must tan beautifully. I mean, on the beach there.”

She looked up at him with a light laugh, but didn’t say anything.

“Ah, tell me. I have an assignment tonight, ah, involving nightclubs. Would you like to—can you perhaps come along? What I mean is, less conspicuous, you know, being a couple. Besides, I would very much like—”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Herron. It’s real nice of you to ask me, but I’m married.”

“You’re married?”

“Why, yes. Surprises you?”

“Ah, oh, no, I didn’t mean that. No surprise, actually. But a disappointment. Ha-ha.”

She laughed too and looked down at her message pad again.

“Well, the message, then,” he said. Herron dictated, not looking at her arm.

That evening he went out with Larry.

Chapter Eleven

“So I see you made a contact,” said the Turtle. Then his eyes bugged out more than usual when he got a closer look at Catell. “Behold the Duke,” he said. “Just get a load of the Duke in them fancy duds. Tonio, you musta made goodio. What happened?”

Catell dropped the cartons he was carrying on the bed and took off his new sports jacket.

“Put it back on,” the Turtle said. “That neon shirt is kicking my eyeballs.”

“Whaddaya talking about? It’s California style, isn’t it?”

“No, it ain’t. You see anybody walkin’ around like that who ain’t a tourist or an actor or somethin’?”

“Well, anyway, I just got this one.”

Catell sat down and lit a cigarette. The Turtle stood opposite, waiting.

“So give. What’s the glad news?”

“No glad news, Turtle. I think I’m going to get someplace, but so far I’ve been roped.”

“Roped? How?”

“I’m doing a job for that fat Smith guy. First the job, then the gold deal.”

“So whaddaya kicking about? So you pick up some extra change plying your trade and also make a most evaluate contact and this you call roped!”

“Yeah, roped. Because I don’t want no part of that syndicate and the way they run things. I need a free hand. I’m no soldier, you know, or a college kid getting a bang out of playing fraternity. That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Did you sign up for twenty years, maybe?”

“Maybe I did! I don’t know who’s gonna plan this heist or if it’s any good, and maybe some ass I don’t even know screws the works and I get it in the neck. So don’t talk to me about that goddamn syndicate or I might even change my mind. Well, forget it, Turtle, I’m just jumpy is all. Here’s your cut.”

“My cut?”

“Yeah. Your share. I got paid five hundred on account There’s over four hundred left. Take