rolled back on the road. We shot ahead in the darkness.

We crossed the river on a long wooden bridge. The road began to rise again. We couldn’t make much speed. There were too many chuckholes in the road. I managed to keep it around forty.

“Just where, precisely, are we going?” she asked.

“Sanport. Thirty-eight-twenty-seven Davy Avenue. Memorize it, in case we get separated. My apartment’s on the third floor. Number Three-o-three.”

“Number Three-o-three. Thirty-eight-twenty-seven Davy,” she repeated. “That’s easy to remember.”

“And my name’s Scarborough. Lee Scarborough.”

“Is that authentic? Or another alias?”

“It’s my right name.”

“To what do I owe this unprecedented confidence? You wouldn’t tell me before.”

“With those two people listening? You think I’m crazy?”

“Oh,” she said. “And, in case we do get to Sanport alive, what do we do with the car?”

“I’m going to take it to the airport and ditch it. After I get you into the apartment. I’ll take a taxi or limousine back to town.”

“That’s a little obvious,” she pointed out. “I mean, if we were really taking a plane, we’d leave the car anywhere but at the airport.”

“I know. But they’ll never be sure. As a matter of fact, they may never get a lead on this car, anyway. But even if they do, and find it out there, all they can do is suspect you’re in Sanport. You’ll be on ice. You’ll never go out on the street.”

“We can’t get the money out of the vaults unless I go out.”

“I know. But we can wait until some of the heat’s off. How long is the rent paid on them?”

“For a year. A year from July, that is.”

“All right. It’s easy, if we just get there. You stay right in the apartment for at least a month. Maybe longer. We do what we can to change your appearance. I’m working on that now. Maybe we’ll make you a redhead. Change you from the skin out, cheap, flashy clothes, that sort of thing. There’s only one thing, though. How many times have you been in that bank where you rented the boxes?”

“Banks,” she said. “They’re in three different ones. I was in each of them only once.”

“Well, it’s all right, then. They won’t remember what you looked like. If you’ve changed from a brunette to a redhead, they’ll” never notice. I understand it’s been done before, anyway.”

“So if I don’t go mad in a month of being shut up in that apartment, and I manage to get the money out without being recognized, what then? You murder me, I suppose, and leave the country? Is that it?”

“I’ve already told you,” I said. “I take you to the Coast. San Francisco, for instance. In my car. I could buy a trailer and let you ride in that, out of sight, but I don’t think it’ll be necessary if your appearance can be changed enough. You can take out a Social Security card under the name of Susie Mumble or something and go to work. They’ll never get you—if you lay off the juice and keep your mouth shut.”

“Go to work as a waitress, I suppose?”

“Waitress. Carhop. B-girl. Who cares? As a matter of fact, with your looks you’d never have to work anywhere very long.”

“Well, thank you. Do you mean my looks as they are now, or after I’ve suffered a month of your remodeling?”

I shrugged. “Either way. You’d come out a beautiful wench no matter what we did. There’d be plenty of wolves drooling to support you.”

“I like your objective appraisal. I take it you don’t include yourself among them?”

“You’re a business proposition to me, a hundred and twenty thousand dollars’ worth of meat to deliver on the hoof. I like my women warm to the touch. And not quite so deadly with a gun.”

“I am already aware of the vulgar depths of your taste. Diana James, for instance.”

I saw Diana James turn a little, as if someone had twitched at her clothing, and collapse, sprawling on the concrete floor.

“Why did you call her Cynthia?” I asked, remembering.

“Because that was her real name. Cynthia Cannon.”

“Why did she change it?”

“Why does any criminal?”

“I thought she was a nurse.”

“I believe she was.”

I shrugged. “All right. It’s nothing to me. I don’t give a damn. I don’t care how you killed Butler, why you killed him, or where, or who helped you. I don’t care who those two blonds were, or how they got in it, or why they wanted to kill you. I don’t care why you shot Diana James, or