Three
This was the man named George Carver Henderson. He had been alternately hostile and friendly when I’d met him in the bar. I wondered which he was now. And how had he found me? Then I decided I was getting too jumpy. I relaxed and waited for him to come up to me.
“Hello, Brownie,” I said when he was a few feet away.
He laughed. “Still a cool cat,” he said. “Man, I’ve been waiting an hour for you.”
“I’m flattered,” I said. “Just two questions. Why and how?”
“I’ll answer the how first. You told me your name, but you didn’t tell me where you were staying. I was going to start phoning hotels, but I figured that would be a bad scene. You’d told Mrs. Summers that you were from the insurance company that covered the Belters Building. So I figured out you’d be nosing around the main offi
