“For me?” Candy looked at Stubb.
“That’s what the man says.”
“Should I answer it?”
He tried—quite successfully, since Candy was in no condition to be minutely observant—to appear not to care. “Up to you.”
“I guess I better.” She waved at the bellman as he passed. “Right here. I’m Cathy Garth.”
“House phone three, Ma’am.” The bellman pointed. “Thank you very much,” Candy said. Stubb walked her over to it, and she asked him, “What’ll I say?” whispering as though the other party could hear her already.
“‘Cathy Garth,”’ he told her.
“Cathy Garth,” she repeated, and picked up the telephone. “Cathy Garth speaking.”
Stubb listened, pretending not to listen.
“Yes? … Oh, hi! Hi, John … . I’m right down here in the lobby … . Could I ever! I’m starved! Anything.”
The bellman who had paged Candy was coming around again.
Stubb stopped him. “Me too?”
“This is a different party, sir. He gave me a letter for you.”
Stubb took it. “Mysterious, isn’t it?”
“I guess so, sir. We haven’t had the murder yet, but when we do, we’ll call in the Yard.”
“But it will actually be solved by an eccentric peer who hasn’t done any real work since the Second World War,” Stubb finished for him.
The bellman grinned. “How about a poisoning in the Quaint?”
“Happens all the time, only they die outside.” With the feeling that luck was about to change, Stubb gave the bellman a five. “The fat girl didn’t tip you, did she?”
“Ladies seldom do,” the bellman said. “Thank you, sir.”
As he turned away, Candy seized Stubb’s arm. “Jim—” She belched softly. “Jim, you’ve gotta help me. That was a john I met this afternoon. His name’s Sweet.”
Stubb nodded encouragingly.
“He was going to the airport, see? Back home after some convention. I went with him, only it turns out he didn’t go. I guess they had more snow out there than we got here, and some flights got cancelled. Then the lights went out, same as here, and it got screwed up worse. So he said to hell with it like anybody would. He said there weren’t any cabs by then, but he hitched a ride back with a business acquaintance—that’s what he said—that lives here and had his own car.”
“Is this going anywhere?” Stubb asked. “If it isn’t, I’d like to sit down.”
“It’s there already. I mean, he’s here. I’d told him I was staying here, so the guy dropped him here and he got a room and he’s been looking for me ever since, hoping I didn’t get my flight either. He’ll be down in five minutes. Jim, how do I explain this nurse outfit?” The fat girl’s voice rose to an anguished wail.
“You could split before he gets here. Come on, and I’ll get us into Madame S.’s room.”
“Jim, it’s dinner and at least a hundred bucks, and I’m starving and I haven’t got a dime. So what do I tell him? Do I say I’m a nurse now? You’re my friend, Jim. What do I say?”
Stubb scratched his chin reflectively. It was too warm in the lobby; he felt hot and tired. Suddenly his eyes went wide, and he nudged Candy. “My God, look!”
She looked. “That’s him, isn’t it?”
“You’re damn right it is, but where’d he get the clothes?”
“Stole ’em, I bet. But where’d he get that fox?”
They watched until Barnes, Robin, and Ozzie disappeared into an elevator. “You’re right,” Stubb said. “He must have got them in the blackout. Hey, that gives me an idea for your nurse’s clothes.”
“I stole them?”
“No. You went to a costume party. This john thought you were catching a plane, right? Why’d you go to the airport anyway?”
“Never mind, I did. What’s your idea?”
“You couldn’t get your plane, so you came back here—only earlier, and you called up a girlfriend and she told you about the party. You didn’t have time to rent a regular costume, but the girlfriend’s a nurse and she loaned you those. You were tired and the party wasn’t much fun, so you had a couple of drinks and came back here. That’ll also explain why you’re a little juiced, which you are.”
“Okay, that’s great.”
“Meaning, ‘Now be a darling and get lost.”’
