MOONEY WAS VERY QUIET on the way back to the hotel. Harse, for once, was not gazing into his viewer. He sat erect and silent beside Mooney, glancing at him from time to time. Mooney did not relish the attention.
The situation had deteriorated.
It deteriorated even more when they entered the lobby of the hotel. The desk clerk called to Mooney.
Mooney hesitated, then said to Harse: “You go ahead. I’ll be up in a minute. And listen—don’t forget about my knock.”
Harse inclined his head and strode into the elevator. Mooney sighed.
“There’s a gentleman to see you, Mr. Mooney,” the desk clerk said civilly.
Mooney swallowed. “A—a gentleman? To see me?”
The clerk nodded toward the writing room. “In there, sir. A gentleman who says he knows you.”
Mooney pursed his lips.
In the writing room?
