Ask for Me Tomorrow

“Okay, you want to play lawyer, define your terms.”

“Fussing is an unnecessary futile display of irritability that stops short of loss of temper.”

“All right, I was fussing, dammit.”

“Shall I go on reading?”

“Yes.”

“Now G. G. don’t misunderstand what I wrote. I find the people here peculiar, who wouldn’t, but the place itself is simply terrific, blue water, blue skies, no rain. It’s sort of a piece of California desert like Yucca Valley for instance only it’s right beside the ocean like Santa Felicia. A winning combination as you can well imagine which is why I’m betting on it. I’ve bet my shirt if you want the truth!

“I know how businesslike and practical you are so I’ll stop beating around the bush and come right out and state the purpose of this letter. Did you notice the letterhead? In case you missed the connection it has part of my name in it, the ‘lock’ in Jenlock is me. Me and a fellow called Jenkins (he’s awfully smart, cram full of bright ideas) are in this project together. It’s cost me a mint so far. But as Jenkins says Rome wasn’t built in a day for 50 pesos and you have to spend money to get money. I enclose a brochure about Jenlock Haciendas. We’re going to have a lot more printed when cash becomes available. Quite a few have already been mailed to interested parties.”

“Where’s the brochure?” Aragon said.

“I tore it up.”

“Why?”

“I have a short fuse.”

“So what lit it?”

“The thing was such an obvious come-on, the high-flown descriptions of a marina, a social center, a golf course, the haciendas themselves, when all they really had was a hunk of desert and a bunch of whales. I felt like going to Smedler with the brochure and asking him to investigate. Instead, I just tore it up. As I said, I have a short fuse. I’m also pretty tight with a buck.”

“B. J. asked you for money?”

“Did he ever. Read on.”