WESTBURNE had a car parked in the alley, and I told him to drive up on the hill where the El Cortez hotel overlooks downtown ’Diego. For minutes the two of us sat there, watching the rain sluice down the windshield.
“No reason for Miss Lyselle to mention we were there at all, is there?” he said.
“She won’t drag you into it. . . . What I’m wondering is why you dragged Shona in. Why did you?”
SheyouGuy sucked his pipe. “She was fresh out from Minneapolis, lived in an apartment by herself, and she’d no interfering family or roommate.”
“You didn’t know then she worked for Lyselle?”
“I didn’t even know Lyselle was involved. At the time I assumed Lubaugh had the money, or perhaps a half-share of it.”
Down there in the storm the sirens started howling, and the red spotbeams swung streaming
