'Keep your hands off me,' he said.
'I want to see Marty,' I said.
He made no effort to get his arm free. He stood perfectly still, his eyes steady on me.
'He might even want to see me,' I said.
'Why don't we go to a house phone and you call him. Tell him I've seen his wife.'
The little guy kept looking at me. I kept hold of his arm.
'Okay,' he said.
'I'll call him.'
I let go of his right arm. He flashed his right hand in under his coat and came out with a short stainless-steel automatic. He pressed it against my stomach, standing close so that no one would see.
'What kind of gun is that?' I said.
'Next time you put your hands on me,' he said softly, 'you'll be breathing through your navel.'
'Fast little guy aren't you.'
'Remember it,' he said and put the gun away with a small deft movement.
'So what kind is it?' I said.
'What?'
'The gun, looks like a short Colt.'
'It is, nineteen ninety-one A-one Compact.'
'Forty-five?' I said.
'Yeah, six rounds.'
'Nice gun,' I said.
He looked at me with no expression in his slatey little eyes.
'Gun's as good as the guy who holds it,' he said.
'Sure,' I said.
'Call Marty.'
Which he did.
There was a pedestrian overpass across the Strip so people on the other side would have no trouble dashing over to the MGM Grand and dropping a bundle. Marty met me in the middle of it.
He was wearing a blue silk suit and a blue silk shirt buttoned to the neck.
'Okay, Bernie,' he said to the little guy, 'take a walk.'
'I'll be over here, Marty,' the little guy said.
He walked a ways toward the west end of the overpass and leaned on the railing, watching us.
'Tough little guy,' I said.
'He can shoot,' Marty said.
'You seen my wife?'
'Yeah.'
'Where is she?'
'Where do you think she is?'
'What is this, some kinda fucking game?'
'Sure,' I said.
'I'm trying to find out what you know, without letting you know what I know. You know?'
'This is what I know, asshole. I come down here to talk with you. I could throw you off this fucking overpass instead.'
'Or not,' I said.
'You don't think so?'
'Marty,' I said.
'You don't scare me, any more than I scare you.
One of us is wrong, but do we have to find it out right now?'
'You called me, pal.'
I nodded. I was thinking about what to say. Since I didn't know what was going on there wasn't much to think about. I turned to one of Spenser's rules. When in doubt tell the truth. It was a brand-new rule, and it might be worth testing.
