“The news is not good, I’m afraid.” Vince sounded discouraged.
“Okay. Let’s have it.”
“The relevant part of O’Laughlin’s practice seems to have gone to a guy named Bob Roache, in his early forties, who makes Old Joe look like a paragon of integrity. Drinks, gambles, mixes with the Outfit. Lots of women. Doesn’t work hard. Seems to have lots of money. Almost debarred a couple of years ago. An Adlai Stevenson idealist gone sour.”
“He won’t let me look at the stuff.”
“Worse than that. If he finds out you’re looking for something, he’ll search for it too and then sell it to you, for as much as he can get.”
“Should I call him for an appointment?”
“No, don’t do that. It will alert him. Stop in at his office after lunch, about three o’clock, given his hours. He’ll be a little tuned, maybe a lot tuned, and mellow. Offer him some money. Do it discreetly … I know you can do that. Then don’t leave his office until you find what you want. Take it with you.”
“How much money?”
“Two thousand. And in cash.”
“Naturally.”
I hung up and went back to the darkroom. Under Rosemarie’s efficient management the “Parochial School” project was back on schedule.
“Vince,” I said before she could ask. “Minor business.”
“Is he all right?”
“Never sounded happier. He’s got a good wife. Almost as good as mine.”
“Blarney, but I love it. … Now what about this sweet old nun? Bride of Christ?”
We went back to work.
“What did you think of Dr. Stone?” She asked with elaborate casualness.
“You didn’t tell me she was gorgeous.”
“You didn’t ask. Some dish, isn’t she.”
“You bet.”
“Would you like to sleep with her?”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Well, that’s an honest answer anyway.”
“Impressively competent.”
“I bet she thought you were cute.”
“You ask her.”
Rosemarie giggled. “There’ll be enough material in that question to keep us going for months.”
End of conversation.
I was no more going to tell her about my session with her shrink than she would tell me about hers.
And I was going to approach very carefully my fulfillment of Dr. Stone’s instructions.
The next day I visited Robert Roache’s expensive office suite in the Conway Building. The pretty blond secretary said, with considerable indifference, that he was not expected back that afternoon. Would I care to leave my name?
No I would not. I’d be back again some other day.