'Two more Mai Tais,' he said.
I left.
Chapter 22
'BUT I DON'T want to stay at nineteen,' Susan said. 'I want him to hit me.'
'But unless he hits you with an ace or a two,' I said, 'you bust.'
'But staying is boring,' she said.
'Of course it is,' I said.
'You're humoring me.'
'Of course I am.'
We were in Beverly Hills, walking up Rodeo Drive, the silliest street in America, holding hands, discussing blackjack.
'But what's wrong with my approach,' Susan said.
'It guarantees that you'll lose.'
'I'm going to lose anyway.'
'Very likely,' I said. 'But the point of the exercise is to try to win.'
'I get bored standing there waiting for the proper cards.'
I nodded. We were quiet for a little while as we marshaled our arguments.
'Are you thinking sexist things?' Susan said.
'Like `women, hmmph!'?' I said.
'Like that,' she said.
'Not me.'
Susan smiled.
We were staying in a hotel at the foot of Rodeo Drive. We liked the hotel. It was expensive, but I'd gotten a supportive advance from the Potshot cabal. And we were right in the heart of Beverly Hills, so we had continuous access to comic relief.
'So much to buy,' Susan said, 'so little time. How long do you think we'll be here?'
'I need to do a little background on Steven and Mary Lou Buckman,' I said.
'I need a new wardrobe,' she said. 'For fall.'
'Didn't you buy a new fall wardrobe last year?'
She gave me a withering look.
'How will you go about checking on the Buckmans?' she said.
'I'll start with Mark Samuelson. He's the one who sent Mary Lou to me.'
'Why are you checking on them?'
'Better to know than not know,' I said. 'Nothing seems quite plumb in Potshot. I want to know about them before they went there. In fact it might help if I knew why they went there.'
'To get away?'
'From what?'
'It would probably be good to know that, too,' Susan said.
'Hey,' I said. 'You're detecting. That's man's work.'
Susan ignored me, which probably accounts for the longevity of our relationship.
'I have women's work to do,' she said. 'Why don't you go about your business and let me do it.'
Which I did.
Chapter 23
MARK SAMUELSON HAD been a lieutenant with a drooping moustache and no hair when I last did business with him. Now that I was doing business with him again, he was clean shaven, a captain, and had no hair. He was still wearing his tinted aviator glasses. And he had a healthy outdoor look about him.
His office was in the Parker Center now. It was bigger. It had higher partition walls. And the airconditioning worked.
'You look the same,' he said.
'Yeah,' I said, 'crying shame isn't it.'
'You working with Mary Lou Buckman?'
'Yeah.'
