Chapter 19
THE BLONDE was indignant. “This is a fine time of night to wake a lady up! ” She had finally gotten rid of the yellow silk pajamas and was looking singularly chaste in a white gown and a loosely tied linen robe. Without her make-up she was older, but, oddly enough, not nearly so hard.
McCloud pointed out that it was no longer night; that it was in fact, morning. He did not do this argumentatively. He was merely calling something to her attention that perhaps she had overlooked. She peered past him down the blue-lighted hall, though there was but one possibility of an eavesdropper. Dutch DeGroot and Margie Garland didn’t live there any more. This was McCloud’s third trip. He hoped it would be luckier than the other two. The lady looked at the bloody, muddy, and on the whole ver
