Tannenbaum got up and walked out. Ronnie went out after him and closed the door. In another minute the Filipino came in.
'May I show you out?' he said.
I said he might. We got back in the car, drove back out to Route 10, and headed for L.A., past the Indian bingo parlors and the places that sold Famous Date Shakes.
'Ronnie looks sort of like an accountant,' I said to Chollo.
'He's not,' Chollo said.
'No,' I said. 'He's not. You think Tannenbaum will try to kill me?'
'In your language,' Chollo said, 'you bet your ass.'
'Well it's been tried before,' I said.
'You want me to kill him?' Chollo said.
'No. But I might take a rain check.'
'What's the Dell?' Bobby Horse said.
'You don't know?' I said.
'I did would I be asking?'
'But Tannenbaum did,' I said.
'So his interest is not just what'shername,' Chollo said.
'Lou Buckman. No. It's Potshot.'
'So, what's the Dell,' Bobby Horse said.
I told him.
'Tannenbaum connected with this Preacher hombre, maybe?' Chollo said.
'Hombre?' I said.
'Just like to stay authentic to my heritage,' Chollo said.
'Chollo, you grew up in East L.A.,' I said.
'And I'm true to my heritage,' Chollo said. 'I am a thug.'
'And a good one,' I said.
'A thing worth doing,' Chollo said, 'is worth doing well.'
'You got a plan?' Bobby Horse said.
'I can't seem to connect any of the dots,' I said, 'so, I think I'll blunder around out here some more. Something's got to be connected to someone.'
'There's a connection,' Chollo said. 'You just don't know what it is.'
'Story of my sleuthing career,' I said.
Chapter 32
ONE OF THE things I always liked, especially when I traveled with Susan, was to have breakfast with her. The only drawback was that, no matter when you woke up, you waited an hour or so to eat while she worked out, showered, did her hair, put on her face and dressed like a Parisian model. I had never actually met a Parisian model, but I was sure that if I did, she'd be dressed like Susan. The thing was that without her clothes on, with no makeup, and her hair down, she was gorgeous. Occasionally I remarked about carrying coals to Newcastle. And always, when I did, she gave me a look of such penetrating pity that I never pursued it.
The way we normally worked it was that she said she'd meet me in the dining room at, say, 9 A.M. and I should go down and get a table for us. So I would and have some juice and coffee and study the menu and she would show up about 9:30 without any apparent awareness that she was a half-hour late. On the other hand she wasn't reliable. If I went down at 9:30 she would have showed up before me, and, in the future, would expect me to be a half-hour late. So next time, she'd show up at 10.
It is one of the secrets of happiness that you know which battles you can win and which you can't. I had given up the punctuality battle years ago. And the pleasure of her company when she did show up was always worth the wait.
I had drunk some orange juice and read USA Today, and was on my second cup of coffee at a table for two, near a window, when she came gleaming into the dining room. Several people looked at her more or less covertly. Maybe she was a movie star.
'I'm sorry I'm late,' she said.
'Really?' I said. 'I didn't notice.'
'Do you know what you're going to have?' she said.
'Here's a how-well-do-you-know-me test,' I said. 'Read the menu, see if you can guess.'
Susan put on the reading glasses she had just bought on Rodeo Drive, round ones with bright green frames, and studied the menu. She smiled.
'Ah ha!' she said.
