She mixed a drink, brought it to Berg with a box of cigarettes. He took a cigarette and she lit it for him. He sat, cigarette in one hand, drink in the other, looking up at her. She said: “You know, Rene, I’m sorry for you. I’m very sorry for you.”
Berg looked surprised. He shrugged his shoulders. He said: “Yeah…?” He smiled at her. “I wonder why you should be sorry for me, Mrs. Scansci. What have I done that you’ve got to be sorry for me?”
She said: “Because, Rene…and I wish you wouldn’t call me Mrs. Scansci—my name’s Clovis. You and I are friends…we’ve got to be friends…so we’ve got to call each other by our first names.… I am sorry for you because, like me, you’ve been framed.”
Berg said: “Yeah?” He was vaguely amused. “And who’s framed me?” he asked.
She smiled. She went and stood
