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to make of the insolent young man and his devil-may-care attitude. Nor did he understand Shayon’s insistence on delaying the meeting an hour. Holt, in his place, would have been anxious to get it over with. Unless there was something — someone — that Shayon didn’t want Holt to see … Holt rose suddenly, his mind made up. The best way to find out was to investigate. With a wry smile, he thought that McCoy and Connie didn’t have any monopoly on intuition.
    Connie came back into the living room as he was putting on his coat. “Nancy’s ready to kiss you goodnight.” She looked startled at his preparations for leaving. “Where are you going, Mitch?”
    “I’ve got to take a run across town and talk to Shayon.”
    “Tonight? After we said we were going to have at least one evening together? If it was what I said — ”
    “I know, honey,” Holt said. “I hate to run out on you but you know how it is.”
    “Sure, I know how it is,” she said. “I don’t know where I got the silly idea that we could have just one evening together. Mitch, I have a bottle of champagne in the refrigerator — I was going to surprise you — ”
    “I’ve already made an appointment with Shayon.”
    “Oh? That was thoughtful of you.” She was icy now. “You’d better say goodnight to Nancy. She has to get to sleep.”
    Uncomfortably, Holt went into his daughter’s bedroom. Despite what Connie had said, Nancy didn’t appear in the least need of sleep. After the usual ritual of prayers and blanket-arranging, she asked, “Daddy, aren’t we ever going to see Papa Grande at all?”
    “Soon,” Holt said, raising his voice so the promise might carry into the next room. “Cross my heart.”
    The effort was wasted. When he emerged, Connie had gone into the bathroom and the door was closed. He rapped on it but Connie merely said goodbye without coming out for the customary kiss, and Holt knew that she was more than a little upset. Frowning, he went out to his car.
    And, as he drove across town to take up a cautious surveillance of Delmont Shayon’s abode, Holt realized that, after all, the evening had turned out just about as Van Dusen had predicted. He didn’t feel much like laughing about it now, though.

CHAPTER FIVE
    D ELMONT S HAYON lived in an apartment built over a garage at the rear of a lot on which a larger house stood. There was an unobstructed view of the front door and since the apartment had no other entrance it was easy to watch. The only trouble, Holt discovered, was that there was nothing to see. Although he sat in his car for a half-hour, his eyes fixed on the dwelling, his vigil was not rewarding. No one entered; no one left. There was a light in the apartment living room and the shades were up but Holt couldn’t detect any movement inside. He began to doubt that Shayon was even at home.
    When the hands of his wrist watch told him that it was nine o’clock, he went to confirm his suspicions. To his surprise, the door was opened immediately upon his ring. Holt had no trouble recognizing Shayon from his photograph although he was shorter than Holt had expected. He was, Holt judged, about twenty-five, but some premature grey had crept into the dark curly hair, an effect which added to his rakish charm.
    “Right on time,” commented Shayon, admitting him. One eyebrow was quirked in a mocking manner. “Come on in and get warm. You must be cold after sitting out in your car for so long.”
    Holt blinked. “Then you knew I was there?”
    “I’ve been watching you from the bedroom,” Shayon said, indicating the darkened adjoining room. He added, “By myself, in case you’re wondering.”
    “Well, you told me not before nine o’clock,” Holt said.
    Shayon laughed. “Sure, I did. I wanted to see just where you stood. I found out, all right. You couldn’t get over here fast enough to see what I was up to.”
    “I plead guilty to being curious but that’s no crime.”
    “Not like murder, huh? You