Ask for Me Tomorrow

“It won’t come as a surprise. I made my feelings toward her quite clear, especially after they gave her the guest room. It’s the best room in the house, a view of the ocean, a Beautyrest mattress and a pink velvet chaise. Pink velvet, and her an ordinary nurse.”

Aragon said, “Where did Mrs. Decker go?”

“To the movies with Reed. Reed told her if she didn’t get out of this house once in a while, she’d have a nervous breakdown. I felt like saying, maybe she already has one. But I didn’t. My car’s not paid for and my left back molar needs a new crown. There are also spiritual considerations.”

“What kind of spiritual considerations?”

“The church needs money. Did you hear a click on the line just then?”

“I accidentally touched the phone with my glass.”

“Your glass. What are you drinking?”

He lied a little. “Soda water.”

“Reed has been drinking hard liquor lately and far too much of it. His eyes get all bleary and he talks fresh to Mrs. Decker. If I talked fresh to her with bleary eyes, I wouldn’t get away with it, no sir. She’d up and—”

“Violet Smith.”

“—fire me like a shot. She allows Reed to—”

“Violet Smith, I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”

“What time is it?”

“A quarter after ten.”

“Went... to... bed... ten fifteen.”

Sixteen

“Well, here he is, our wandering boy, fresh from foreign soil.” Charity Nelson pushed back her orange wig so she could get a better view of him. “You’ve only been gone a week but I detect a certain new maturity about you, Aragon. What happened?”

“Nothing much.”

“Did you miss me?”

“I thought of you a few times.”

“I thought of you, too. Especially when the answering service woke me up at six thirty this morning to read me a night letter addressed to you.”

“A night letter?”

“From Rio Seco. Want me to read it to you? Better say yes, I took it down in my own version of shorthand.”

“Yes.”

“Please.”

“Please.”

“Please. Hasn’t that word got a nice ring to it? I can’t recall ever hearing it around this office before.”

“You’ve put a very funny act together, Miss Nelson.”

“There’s more.”

“Spare me. Double please.”

“Okay.” She consulted a piece of paper which she took from the top drawer of her desk. “It’s signed ‘Scorpio.’ That sounds like a code name. In fact, the whole thing sounds as though it might be in code. You’re not a spy, are you?”

“Yes.”

“No kidding. Whose side are you on?”

“What sides are there? Pick one and read the letter.”

“ ‘Swiss connection reports penetrating paper doors at the stone quarry’ — I think that’s what the operator said, ‘stone quarry.’ Does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

“ ‘Records indicate Byron James Lockwood was released three years ago by Magistrate Guadalupe Hernandez. Exact circumstances of Lockwood’s release unavailable and current whereabouts unknown. Hernandez contacted by phone but refused to give additional information. Home address, Camino de la Cima. Try Mordida.’ Who’s Mordida?”

“It’s not a who, it’s a what. A bite. A bribe.”

“What a shame. I thought it was a girl, some gorgeous brunette who’s a double or triple agent — you know, the usual thing.”

Smedler came out of his office to pick up his mail. He appeared a little too perfectly groomed, as if he’d just been given the full treatment in a beauty salon or a mortician’s prep room. “Good morning, Aragon. Great weather, isn’t it? On these crisp fall days you can feel the old corpuscles moving right along.”

“Yes, sir. It’s nice to be back.”

Smedler looked surprised. “Have you been away?... Has he been away, Miss Nelson?”

“Yes, Mr. Smedler. On a personal mission for Mrs. Decker.”

“Ah yes. How’d it go, Aragon?”

“Fine.”

“Fine. Now that’s the kind of answer I appreciate. Pour him a cup of coffee on the house, Miss Nelson.”

Smedler returned to his office while Charity put fifteen cents in the coffee machine and extracted a cup of semihot, semicreamed, semicoffee.

“Oh, you shouldn’t, Miss Nelson,” Aragon said. “This is too much, it’s beyond the call of duty. You really shouldn’t.”

“Okay, I won’t,” she said and drank the coffee herself. “I can type this letter up for you, if you like. How many copies do you need?”

“One.”

“One? Nobody ever needs just one. Since this concerns Mrs. Decker, you’ll want to give her the ribbon copy and keep a few others for your private files.”

“Why will I want to do that?”

“It’s standard practice,” Charity said. “Don’t fight it.”

“I have no private files.”

“You shouldn’t admit anything like that. You’ll never get to first base in this business without the basics. Rule one: always have plenty of copies made of everything. The less important the matter is, the more copies you ask for.”

“But I only need one. In fact, I don’t really need that. Mrs. Decker probably hasn’t any files either.”

“As a businesswoman I don’t know how to deal with people who won’t obey the ordinary commonsense business rules.”

“I’ll tell you how,” Aragon said. “Leave us alone. Forget the night letter. It never happened.”