'Yes,' I said, 'following him.' Francis laughed briefly.
'And you know who I'm working for,' he said.
'Him,' I said, 'following her. You catch her?'
'It's against company policy,' Francis said, 'to discuss any aspect of a case with unauthorized personnel.'
'Of course,' I said.
'So far the only person I caught her with was him.'
'Her husband?'
'Yeah.'
Francis was watching the Rowley house. Through the trees, across the lawn, I could see Marlene Rowley come out of her house. I got out of the car.
Francis started the car.
'Time to go to work,' he said. I closed the door.
Through the window, I said, 'Have a nice evening.'
'You bet,' he said and put the car in drive and moved slowly down toward the corner of the street where Marlene would pull out of her driveway. In a while she did and turned right and after a suitable pause, Francis drove on after her.
I stood on the empty suburban street for a time. I felt left out. I had no one to follow. There was a summer hum of insects, which made everything seem quieter. I listened to the quiet for a bit, then went to my car and started it up. And went home.
9
Marlene Rowley came to see me in the morning, wearing a yellow summer dress with blue flowers. She sat in a straight chair and crossed her legs, and showed me her kneecaps.
'Did you catch him yet,' she said
'Depends what you mean by catch. Want some coffee?'
'No. What have you got?'
'I have him in a hotel room with another woman,' I said.
'When?'
'Monday night.'
'And you didn't report it?'
'Nope,'
'Why nor?'
'You feel that being in a hotel room with another woman is enough?' I said.
'No. I want proof. I want the sonovabitch caught with his pants down. Her too. Or them. Or whoever he's screwing.'
'Three hours together in a hotel room would probably suffice in divorce court.'
'I want it all,' she said.
'You want to embarrass him,' I said.
'Goddamned right,' she said. 'Do you have any idea? No. Of course you don't. You couldn't imagine how many dinner parties I ran for his stupid friends. How to make nice chitchat. How many hours at the day spa, so I'd look good. He's cheating on me? Look at me. I'm beautiful. I'm incredibly smart. I've been a perfect wife for him. People like me. They like him, the jerk, because he's married to me. If it weren't for me he'd be running a hardware store someplace. And he cheats on me?'
'Hard to imagine,' I said.
'You're damned right. So you stay on him until you've got him cold. I want pictures.'
'Pictures,' I said.
'Of him and whatever bitch he's fucking.'
'In the act,' I said.
'Absolutely.'
'Should I have them matted and framed?' I said.
'Are you being funny?' she said.
'Apparently not,' I said.
'I expect results,' she said. 'And I expect them promptly. If you can't handle that, I'll find someone who can.'
'Why don't you do that,' I saicl.
