The Father Hunt

"Yeah. If he's it, what he really wanted was to find out if we had got anywhere and if so how far. How he knew we were on it is a question, but we don't have to answer it. Sure, I could get him here, and then what? Do you think you could ask him anything that would help without giving him a guess that we're on him? I don't. There would be the same risk in seeing the receptionist at Thome's. She might tell him."

He poured beer, leaned back and closed his eyes, and pushed his lips out. He pulled them in and pushed them out again. That was a new one; it had never happened before. The lip act, leaning back and closing his eyes and working his lips out and in, was routine; that meant he was working, working hard, and interruptions were not allowed. But that was the first time he had ever started it with beer just poured, and how would he handle it? How would he know when the bead was down to the right level with his eyes shut? By God, he did. When it was down to where it would just cover his lips as he drank, he opened his eyes, reached for the glass, drank, put the glass down, leaned back, closed his eyes, licked the foam off, and sent Ms lips out and in. I decided he must have practiced it when I wasn't around.

I usually time the lip act, since there's nothing else to do except try to guess what he'll come up with. That time it was three minutes and ten seconds. He opened his eyes, straightened up, and asked, "They're coming at nine o'clock?"

I said yes.

"I suppose a public-relations person has an address? An office?"

I got the Manhattan book and found the page. "Four-. ninety Lexington Avenue. Not the best. It should be Madison."

"Tell them to trace him back and cover nineteen forty-four thoroughly, but not to risk prompting him. That will

be no problem with Saul and Fred, but with Orrie make it emphatic as usual."

"Right." I had emptied the snifter during the lip act, and as he pushed his chair back I went to pour another swallow. It might put me to sleep a few seconds quicker.

12

Not a fly. Flies don't buzz. Mosquito. No. Too loud. What the… Oh. House phone, for God's sake. I opened an eye, stretched an arm and got it, said, "Well?"

Fritz's voice said, "Good morning, Archie. He wants you."