Free Yellow Dog Contract by Ross Thomas

moment. Then he picked up the phone, dialed, and asked for Clarence. I couldn’t tell whether Clarence was the first name or the last, but when Clarence came on they chatted for a while like old friends and then Slick said, “I was just wondering if you could give me a bit of information about a young chap who works for you people. His name is Knaster—that’s with a K. Detective James Knaster.” He waited, listened for a while, then thanked Clarence profusely, and hung up.
    Slick looked at me and then held up his fingernails and gave them a close examination. While he was still admiring them he said, “They have no one named Knaster. They’ve never had anyone by that name.”

CHAPTER SIX
    S LICK AND I speculated for a while about why anyone with a fake police ID would want to keep a watch on my sister’s house. We ran through several ideas, all of them rather unimaginative, and we seemed to be running out of any ideas at all when the phone rang. Slick answered it, said, “Of course,” and then handed it to me. It was Max Quane.
    â€œHow’d you know where to find me?” I said.
    â€œI called your wife and she said you might be at your sister’s and your sister gave me this number. I told her it was important.”
    â€œWell, is it?”
    Something had crept into Quane’s voice. It made him talk too fast and run some of his words together. “I’ve got to see you, Harvey,” he said.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI’ve just got to, damn it!”
    â€œAll right. When?”
    â€œRight away,” Quane said. “Now.”
    â€œWell, I suppose I can get down there in fifteen minutes.”
    â€œNo,” he said quickly. “I’m not at the office. I’ve got a little apartment over on Mintwood Place. You know where Mintwood Place is?”
    â€œJust give me the address,” I said.
    He gave it to me and, as usual, I had nothing to write with so I repeated it. It sometimes helps, but not always. Then I said, “Max.”
    â€œWhat?” he said and his voice was so low and indistinct that I had trouble hearing him.
    â€œJust give me a hint, will you? A small one will do.”
    There was a silence that lasted several seconds. I thought I could hear him breathing harshly and for a moment I was afraid he might be hyper-ventilating. But a phone can play tricks. Finally, he sighed and it was a deep one that seemed to have a sob clinging to its end.
    â€œI—” He started, stopped, and finally when he spoke again it came out in one tumbling rush, the words jamming themselves up against each other.
    â€œI think I know what happened to Arch Mix.”
    The phone went dead. Apparently Quane had hung up. He had been very mysterious and very dramatic and possibly even very silly, which wasn’t at all like him. Over the years, Quane had turned into what I couldn’t help thinking of as a rather cool number, what with his vested suits, his tab collars, and his empty grey eyes that seemed to price everything and find it all far too cheap.
    I tried to keep what I was thinking, or perhaps feeling, off my face when I turned to Slick and said, “I’ll make you a deal.”
    â€œWhat kind of deal?”
    â€œA trade-off.”
    â€œYes,” he said and nodded. “I see. You’re suggesting more of a pool than a trade-off, aren’t you?”
    â€œAll right. A pool.”
    â€œAnd what do you propose to drop into our little pool?”
    â€œI’ve already dropped Knaster. That should be something.”
    â€œPossibly, providing Knaster has something to do with Mix as well as Audrey.”
    â€œIt’s all I’ve got.”
    â€œAnd now it’s my turn?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œVery well, Harvey, what do you need?”
    â€œAn appointment with your client.”
    â€œGallops?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œToday,” I said. “The earlier