She was fully dressed, exactly the way she'd left the dining room, so that for a moment I found myself wondering if anything had actually happened between us, although I knew it had. Then, as I looked at her, I saw a faint pink flush come to her suntanned face, telling me it damn well had. We'd merely managed to shed the clothes, intact and rewearable, before shedding the inhibitions.
I said, "I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?"
"Four-thirty."
I whistled. "I must really have been asleep. Sorry."
"What for? What do you think makes a girl feel more appreciated, a man who falls asleep in her arms, afterwards, or one who looks at his watch and reaches for his pants? I let you sleep as long as I dared."
"Dared?"
"Well," she said, "well, I don't think you'd better be here when Tillery calls, do you? For one thing, if they're watching, he may not call until he knows I'm alone." She hesitated. "Of course, if you don't trust me to talk to him alone…"
I grinned. "Never talk about trust to a man in my business. I told you, we don't trust anybody-and if we should make an exception, we certainly wouldn't want it advertised. People might think we were getting soft, or something. Where the hell are my shorts?"
She found them on the floor and kicked them to me. "Matt."
"Yes."
"You must be feeling pretty clever." Suddenly her voice was cold. "Kidding the girl into helping you at the risk of her life and… and getting a little bonus besides. Pretty smart! But then, you are a pretty smart operator, aren't you?"
I found my shirt and put it on. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Are you having second thoughts, Bobbie? Like buying a used car: it looks good, it sounds good, but you're not quite sure, as you drive it off the lot, that the slick salesman hasn't sold you a rebuilt wreck with a crankcase full of sawdust. Is that it?"
She made a face at me. "It's not nice to read a girl's mind, darling. That's exactly the way I feel. Can you blame me?"
I said seriously, "No, I don't blame you a bit. And you can still change your mind if you want to. And if you don't-" I rose to zip and belt my pants, and stood facing her. "If you don't change your mind, if you go through with this, I want one thing clearly understood: I've given out no guarantees. Have I?"
She licked her lips. "No," she said, "no, I'll hand you that for what it's worth. That's what makes me feel like such a sap. I'm supposed to be a pretty sharp character myself, but here I'm sticking my neck way out for you, and you haven't-"
The telephone cut her short. We both jumped and turned to look at it. It rang again. Bobbie drew a long breath and reached out to pick it up.
"Yes? Oh, yes, this is Bobbie." She caught my eye and nodded; and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level, speaking into the phone. "Yes, of course I recognize your voice, and I've got something for you, but… but I can't talk right now. Can I call you? Oh, I see. Okay, you call me. Yes, he's in the john, but I'm not sure he… Give me ten minutes to get rid of him and ring me again, okay?"
She put the phone down and looked at me. I grinned. "Okay, I can take a hint. Just let me get my shoes on, will you?"
Bobbie didn't smile. She said, "That was Tillery. I tried to get him to say where I could call him, but he wouldn't."
"Sure," I said. "I heard you. You did fine."
"Exactly what do I tell him when he calls back?"
"Mostly the truth," I said. "Tell him you wheedled it out of me that my lovely associate, the female heroin hound, is making arrangements to hit the laboratory in Bernardo, with Mexican help, as soon as Warfel has picked up his shipment and got clear out to sea again so he can't be warned. Then she'll head north across the border to be waiting for him when he brings the boat home. Just how she's planning to keep him from jettisoning the evidence when she marches on board to make the arrest, I don't know and therefore couldn't tell you, but apparently she has some plan in mind. As for me, since my official job finished with Beverly Blaine, I'm just hanging around to give the government girl a hand if needed, meanwhile making alcoholic passes at stray blondes and talking too much about things I shouldn't."
"Matt."
"Yes?"
Bobbie licked her lips. "I'm scared. I know those creeps. I… I think Tillery called while you were still here, deliberately, just to see how I'd react. If I'd been willing to talk in front of you, he'd have known I was tricking him."
"Maybe," I said. "And maybe he simply hasn't got enough men to keep an eye on us, and just called because he was ready to call." I picked up my jacket and took a step towards her.
She stepped back and said sharply, "No, don't kiss me, you damn Judas. Just get the hell out of here and let me crucify myself alone." When I reached the door, she spoke to my back: "I'll call you in your room, okay?"
"Okay," I said. "Bobbie-"
"Beat it," she said. "Just keep going and close the door behind you and hope I don't come to my senses when you're gone."
XVIII
I noticed two things immediately upon entering my room. I saw that Charlie Devlin was reclining on one of the beds, in her shirt sleeves-well, blouse sleeves-with her shoes off, talking on the phone. I also spotted my suitcase, that I'd left in a Los Angeles motel, now resting on the luggage stand at the foot of the same bed. I was happy to see it. Not only could I use a clean shirt, but I also needed something hidden in that bag. That is, I would need it if everything worked out the way I hoped, and it wasn't something a conventional-minded lady policeman like Charlie would be apt to have handy.
"Yes, I said a skin diver," she was saying impatiently. "What's the matter, is the connection bad at your end? A man with fins and tanks and a wetsuit… That's right. A skin diver. And he should have some kind of big plastic bags, big enough to hold several gallons, and some kind of adhesive that'll work on painted wood under water. No, I don't know of any, but there must be something; nowadays they've got stuff that'll stick anything to anything anywhere. No, I'm not crazy. We've got plans of the boat, haven't we? They show where the plumbing comes out through the hull, don't they? Well, as soon as Warfel docks, your man will swim down and fasten a bag over each opening so when they pump out the evidence it just stays inside the plastic where we can recover..
Oh, for heaven's sake, you can work out the details with your underwater expert, can't you? You don't really expect me to… Of course the plastic will rip off at high speed! I said to wait until he docks, didn't I? He won't be going anywhere at high speed after that, he won't be going anywhere at all if we do our part… All right, call me back if you have any real problems." She put the phone down and looked at me. "You heard, Matt. Do you think it will work?"
I shrugged. "It sounds a little Mickey-Mousey to me, but that underwater stuff is out of my line. Thanks for having my suitcase brought down."
"It's got to work," she said. "I can't think of any other way… The suitcase? Oh, you're welcome. How did you make out?"
"Make out?" I said. "Are you using the term literally or colloquially?"
She examined me and made a little grimace of distaste. "Now that I look at you, I can see how you made out, colloquially. You have that satisfied-stud look. If I thought all this meant to you was a chance to go to bed with a blond tart in broad daylight-"
I said, "Hush your dirty mouth, Devlin."
She looked surprised. "What's the matter, are you sensitive about your methods? Do you feel guilty about seducing the poor little girl, so to speak, in cold blood? Poor little girl, indeed! That six-foot phony-blond tramp knows how to take care of herself, I'm sure. I wouldn't waste a worry on her, if I were you."
I said, "Charlie, I don't mind that you talk too much, I just object to the way you say all the wrong things; and why the hell can't you fix your stockings so they don't bag at the knees? Other women seem to be able to keep up those nylon combination garments without any trouble at all."