'Nothing special,' I said. 'What do you think about Delroy?'
'He works for my boss,' Mickey said.
'I know that. But I figure anyone willing to exercise Jimbo has to have a certain amount of independence.'
Mickey smiled at me. She had a wide mouth. Her big eyes were steady.
'Delroy is a creep,' Mickey said. 'He gives me the whim-whams every time I have to talk to him.'
'Really? That's the way I feel about Jimbo.'
'Jimbo's up-front,' Mickey said. 'He wants to kill you and will if you'll let him. Delroy's a slimeball.'
'Don't beat around the bush,' I said.
Mickey smiled. 'You asked me,' she said.
'What makes him so slimy?'
'He's so buttoned up and spit-shined and polite.
Kind of guy wears a blue suit to a beach party. But inside you know he likes to download kiddie porn from the Internet.'
'Literally?' I said.
'Hell, I don't know. I just know he's not the way he seems.'
'How?'
She smiled at me.
'Female intuition,' she said.
'But Penny likes him.'
'You bet,' Mickey said.
' 'Likes' is too weak?'
Mickey shrugged.
'I don't know. Sometimes I think they're doing the nasty. Sometimes I think she just uses him for her purposes.'
'Could be both.'
Mickey shivered.
'God, how revolting. Being in bed with him. Yuck!'
'He ever make a pass at you?'
'Not really,' she said. 'He's too stiff and creepy. But he's a starer. You know? Sometimes when you first teach a horse to be ridden, you lay across the saddle on your stomach while he gets used to your weight. Which means your butt is sticking up in the air. If Delroy's around you he's staring.'
It had gotten dark as we talked. We stood in the small splash of light from the stable while around us the Georgia night, not yet black, turned cobalt. I took a card from my shirt pocket and gave it to Mickey.
'If you think of anything useful about Delroy, or anything else, I'm at the Holiday Inn for the nonce,' I said.
'The what?'
'Nonce. But you can always leave a message on my answering machine in Boston.'
'I'd just as soon our conversation was private,' Mickey said.
'Me too,' I said. 'Mum's the word.'
'Not nonce?'
'Mum,' I said.
'You talk really funny,' Mickey said.
'It's a gift,' I said.
FORTY-SIX
WHEN I GOT back to the motel Herb's car was gone.
The next morning, when I came down for breakfast, Becker was sitting in the lobby, reading the paper, with his legs stretched out, so that people had to swing wide when they walked past him.
'Morning,' Becker said.
'Morning.'
I walked to the door of the lobby. Across the parking lot I could see Herb's car. My personal tail. On the job. I turned back to Becker.
'Breakfast?' I said.
