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kind of puny. We give her a name, we might get the answer overnight and then again we might have to wait a month or six weeks before she gets into that drawer.”
    Ezio watched Charlie screw a long cigarette into a silver holder. He didn’t prompt Charlie. When the cigarette was burning Charlie spoke again:
    â€œWe’ve got to wait for her to get a new file that fits alphabetically into the same drawer that’s got one of the four files we want. Am I boring you?”
    â€œWhen I get bored I’ll yawn.”
    â€œFor instance we want her to find the file on Walter Benson, right? But she’s got to wait for them to get a new file on somebody whose name starts with B . You follow?”
    Charlie’s smile hardened like a trap abruptly sprung. “I’ve got Benson for you. She came through with it last night. He’s calling himself William Smithers, he’s working as an assistant manager in Maddox’s Department Store in Norman, Oklahoma, and he lives at one-eighteen Bickham Place in Norman.”
    Ezio wrote it down. He made a point of showing no emotion. “All right. Now go back and get the other three.”

CHAPTER TWO
    Los Angeles: 29 July–1 August
    1
    F RED MATHIESON LOCKED THE OFFICE SAFE AND WENT OUT through the reception office. He heard movement across the room—Phil Adler, leaning through the doorway of his office. “Didn’t realize you were still here, Fred.”
    â€œHeading home.”
    â€œGot a minute?”
    â€œJan will roast me if I’m late.”
    â€œOnly take two minutes. Time me.” Adler, red-faced and forty pounds overweight, backed out of sight.
    By the time Mathieson strolled into the office Adler had sat down behind the desk, as if to assume command.
    â€œGood thing you caught that sequel-and-remake clause in the Blackman contracts.” The air whistling through his nose commanded Mathieson’s perverse attention.
    â€œThat’s what I get my ten percent for.”
    â€œThe lawyers missed it. You caught it. I always told you you should’ve been a lawyer.”
    â€œThat’s right, I should have been a lawyer. Your two minutes are ticking, Phil. We’ve got dinner guests.”
    â€œI just wanted to ask you one question.”
    â€œAsk.”
    â€œWell it’s kind of hard. I’ve been rehearsing how to do this but there just isn’t a simple way.”
    Mathieson tried not to look uneasy.
    Adler said, “To put it bluntly, what would you say if I offered to buy you out?”
    â€œThat’s out of left field.” It was; but he was relieved.
    â€œI know. I’ve been thinking about it but I didn’t know how to put it to you without it sounding like an insult. God knows it’s not an insult. You’ve been a terrific partner. The absolute best.”
    â€œThen why do you want to buy me out?”
    Adler leaned back. He was trying to look relaxed but his hands gripped the chair arms and he might have been waiting for the dentist’s drill. “Five years ago you and I figured we could multiply our clout by joining forces. We did a pretty fine job of …”
    â€œSpare me the history, Phil, your two minutes are up.”
    â€œI have an ego problem, I guess. I’d rather be Adler Enterprises than Mathieson and Adler. I’m getting more into the production end of the business—I’ve got an associate producer credit on the Colburn movie, did you know that? And I just feel I’d prefer to have a free hand.”
    If it had been anyone else he would have laughed. But Adler had no sense of humor, no picture of himself other than the surface image he’d buffed and polished; laughter would hurt him, so Mathieson didn’t laugh. What he said was, “What would happen to the clients?”
    â€œYour clients, you mean. Nothing would happen to mine.”
    â€œMy clients, then. Do you keep them, is that the idea? Or do I take them