“Do we call it or can we grab one outside?” he asked.
“No, I meant him with the cab.” And she pointed at me.
“Nifty,” I said. “Played like a champion.”
“1 knew you?d understand,” she said, and slowly opened her hand toward me.
I dropped the car keys in her palm.
I glared at the Stick.
“Be in by one,” I said.
His smile got a little broader. “Nothing personal,” he said.
“Naw.”
“Next time I?ll loan you the suit.”
She was on her feet already. The Stick followed. He walked to the door; she augured her way out.
I snagged one of the safari maidens and ordered a Bombay gin and soda with lime, no ice, and looked
for someone who might be DeeDee Lukatis. The place had grown more and more obscure. It wasn?t
smoke, it was fog. A cold wind had sneaked across the marsh and invaded the warm river air. All of a
sudden Casablanca seemed wrapped in gauze.
I was beginning to think it was all a bad idea when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and looked
up at a very pretty young woman. She had a model?s figure, tall and slender, topped by long, straight
ebony hair. Her angular features were as perfect as fine porcelain and required very little makeup.
Gray, faraway eyes.
“Hi, Jake,” she said. “Remember me? DeeDee Lukatis?”
51
A LITTLE R AND R
“I was about to abandon hope,” I said. She sat down. She was wearing a kind of bunched-up-looking
khaki jumpsuit with a lot of pockets and a First Cay patch on the shoulder. The full-length zipper was
pulled about halfway down to her waist, which for Casablanca was conservative.
“I hope you don?t mind the little subterfuge with Lark,” she said.
“She?s a friend of yours?”
“She works in the bank with me.”
“I?m developing a healthy respect for Mr. Seaborn,” I said.
“Mr. Seaborn?s all right. A little stuffy maybe.”
“There?s nothing wrong with his taste.”
“Thank you. I told Lark I wanted to talk to you alone. She agreed to try and lure away anybody who
