"You're sweet for coming over and apologizing. Nobody does that anymore. I don't deserve it. I'm a bitch and a middle-aged has-been." She looked as if she might start crying again. He wished women would stop saying nice things about him. It was becoming annoying. David Dean, counselor of the emotionally distraught women of the world.

"Ethel, you're just mad because you didn't dump me first. Admit it. Let's go and have a drink and end this the right way."

"Why do we have to end it?" she said, little-girl-like.

"Because it never really started and we both know it. Now let's get going."

"No," she sniffed, "I look terrible. I look like I'm trying out for you-know-who in The Wizard of Oz. Stay a little while, please? Here, I've got some booze." She reached down behind the desk and brought out a bottle of gin and poured two healthy slugs into water glasses. Dean despised gin even when properly mixed but forced a smile as he drank it straight and warm.

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He put his arm around Ethel and kissed her. "Now," he said, "Are we still friends?"

She sniffed once. "You're too nice a guy to hate." She kicked away a few shards of glass. "God, now I've gone and busted the Governor. I'll have to make another contribution."

"Good," he said. "Now, I've got a question to ask."

"The answer is yes. Let's do it right here on the desk-for old time's sake. I'll get the lights and lock the door!"

He laughed. "That's not my question. I want to know why Arthur Atherton is interested in Jeffrey Byrne."

She gave him a pout. "You're no fun. I'd much rather fool around than talk about that turd Arthur."

The old Ethel Rosewater was coming back and the second gin helped. He pressed her further about Arthur and she finally answered. "I'm not sure but I think his Philadelphia-scum friends asked him to check around. I don't have the slightest idea why, but I found my file on your prissy-missy girlfriend on his desk. God, to think I only charged her half-price on her death certificate business just because she was your friend!"

"Arthur?" Dean prompted.

"You could ask Arthur yourself if he were here, but he's out on Fire Island with his latest bimboy and all their little friends. He takes long weekends every time the weather starts heating up. I want to see the sneaky bastard too. I think he's been tapping the escrow account and that's a giant no-no."

"When you see him, tell him there's nothing to check around about. It's a dead issue. I had a couple of hoods break into my house and if I find out Arthur helped them find me, I'll personal­ly beat him into the ground."




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