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Barney finished his whisky and released a sigh of contentment.

‘On the way to Hollywood, Elliot’s Alfa was hit by a car driven by a drunk. He was killed instantly.’ Barney sniffed and wiped the end of his nose with the back of his wrist. ‘The drunk swore to the cops that Elliot had plenty of room to avoid him but who’s going to believe a drunk? Anyway, the smash saved Elliot from taking his own life, and if you are to believe what was said about him, that was what he was planning to do.’ Barney paused, then shook his head. ‘Fate’s funny, isn’t it?’

‘You could say that,’ I said. ‘And Cindy and Joey... are they still working the City?’

‘Oh, no.’ Barney shook his head. ‘Cindy and Joey are in Carmel. They own a nice little bungalow and they don’t steal anymore. They are now what you call respectable folk. Joey looks after the bungalow, cuts the lawn twice a week and does the shopping. Cindy has a job at a very decent hoteclass="underline" a receptionist, I think they call it. From what I hear — and you know by now, Mr. Campbell, that I’m a guy with his ear to the ground — she’s as happy as any pretty girl can be without a husband.’

This didn’t quite add up to me.

‘How come they own a bungalow in Carmel?’ I asked.

Barney suppressed a belch. He looked at his empty glass and sighed.

‘Have just one more for the road, Barney,’ I said. ‘Let’s tie up all the loose ends before we call it a night.’

‘That’s a good idea, Mr. Campbell,’ Barney said and flip-flopped with his hand. Sam brought two more whiskies.

‘Almost another story,’ Barney said, fondling his glass and wagging his head. ‘An hour after Elliot had left, with Cindy crying her eyes out and Joey now trying to console her, a chauffeur driven car pulled up outside the bungalow. An elderly man got out and rang the bell.

‘Startled, Joey opened the door.

‘ “My name is Paul Larrimore,” the man said. “There’s a young lady living here, I believe... I want to see her.”

‘Poor Joey felt a chill run up his spine. He had visions of tough cops arriving and taking Cindy and himself to jail.

‘Cindy came to the door. Miserably, she tried to smile at Larrimore.

‘ “I’m sorry,” she said. “I took your stamps. I know I shouldn’t have done it.”

‘Joey felt quite sick that Cindy could be so stupid, but Larrimore just smiled and asked if he could come in. So they let him in and Joey saw Larrimore was carrying the old stamp album Cindy had left him.

‘ “Don’t apologize,” Larrimore said as soon as he had sat down. “You saved me from a lot of trouble. I would never have had the moral courage to have parted with those stamps and sooner or later they would have got me into trouble. Taking them as you did has saved me from a possible prison sentence. I hope you haven’t got them any longer?”

‘ “No, Mr. Larrimore. Someone has sold them,” Cindy told him.

‘ “I don’t envy the person who has bought them.” Larrimore shrugged. “But never mind, so long as you can’t get into trouble.” He paused, then he put the old stamp album on the table. “I’ve brought your album back. Looking more carefully through it, I have found a rare stamp: a misprint. I want it and I will pay you twelve thousand dollars for the stamp and the album.” ’

Barney finished his drink.

‘That’s how they bought the bungalow at Carmel, Mr. Campbell. Funny how things work out, isn’t it?’ He yawned and stretched. ‘Well, I guess it’s my bed time.’ Lowering his great arms, he squinted at me. ‘Let me remind you, there’s not much — if anything — I don’t know about this City. When you want to hear another story, you know where to find me.’

I sat for a moment thinking, then I thanked him.

‘Sad about Elliot,’ I said.

Barney wrinkled his fat nose.

‘He’s better off dead, Mr. Campbell. People who can’t manage their money don’t get any sympathy from me.’ He peered at me. ‘You did say another twenty dollars, Mr. Campbell? That’s what you gave me last time.’

‘Did I?’ I gave him a twenty-dollar bill. ‘Well, you can’t say you don’t manage your money, Barney, can you?’

‘That’s right.’ He tucked the bill away in his hip pocket and heaved himself to his feet. ‘Good night, mister: pleasant dreams.’

I watched him lumber across the bar and out into the hot, starlit night, then I went over and settled the check with Sam.