Chapter 11

I sat down with the coffee I’d been drinking—I hadn’t had breakfast myself, concentrating on him—and we sat facing each other. He regarded me distractedly.

“A bad deal,” he said.

“Deal?” I blurted out.

He looked at me narrowly, and then shook his head.

“Notan honorable gentleman.” He clenched his fist on the table. “A cheat.” He clenched his jaw muscles. “But we cleaned his clock.”

“Good,” I said.

He started and looked at me. Then he smiled complacently. “Loyalty is always appreciated,” he said expansively. “Almost as much as—” He looked down meaningfully.

I immediately got to my feet, but he laughed.

“Naw, I wasn’t making a request. You enjoy your coffee.” Then he added, “I appreciated the use of your—pharmaceuticals.”

“Not a problem,” I said.

“Demerol’s okay in its way,” he added, ruminatively. “In its own very limited way.”