CHAPTER FIVE
"I.D., please," said the uniformed security guard at the door.
Mike Kramer reached into his coat pocket for his badge case, showed the badge to the doorman. "Vice squad," he said.
"Right," said the doorman. He grinned at Mike. "Come to check it out?"
"Strictly on my own time. I'm here for pleasure, not business." In a way this was true -- Mike had come to this convention on his own time, but he was there for anything but pleasure. This was a convention of night club owners from all over the United States and Canada, and Mike hoped that if he played his cards right he would be able to get close to Jay Snyder, close enough to accumulate some evidence that could be used to build a case against him. Since the convention was in Los Angeles, and since conventions of this sort we
