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    ‘How’s the racket?’
    ‘Good.’ Fisher looked around him at the tired furniture and the dirty windows. ‘This is funny.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Finding you in a dump. Did you spend it all?’
    ‘The ten grand you paid me is tucked safely away, Jackson. I’m living on earnings.’
    ‘I wasn’t talking about the ten grand.’
    ‘No?’
    ‘I was talking about a whole lot more. Say fifty-six grand.’
    ‘Sit down,’ said Red, ‘and stop talking nonsense.’
    Fisher sat. He took out a cigar, lighted it and grinned at Red through the fragrant smoke. ‘Whit swallowed that crap,’ he said, ‘because he doesn’t know you like I do.’
    ‘You working for Whit?’
    ‘Nope. But I could be.’
    ‘Why don’t you, then?’
    ‘I can make more dough keeping my trap shut.’
    ‘I doubt it.’
    “He’d be mighty surprised to know you had an office here.’
    ‘He knows it. I saw him today.’
    “But he doesn’t know about Mumsie.’
    Fisher’s grin widened. He flicked ashes on the worn carpet, waiting for a reply that wasn’t forthcoming. ’He doesn’t know you two are living in a house in Laurel Canyon, old boy. Shall I give him your phone number?’
    ‘You shouldn’t waste that talent on me,’ Red said. ‘You should save it for your clients.’
    ‘Always the card,’ Fisher grinned. ‘Covering up with a quip. How about it?’
    ‘Run along.’ Red locked his desk and stood up. Fisher also stood up.
    ‘Tomorrow night.’ Fisher’s face lost its pleasant look. ’That’s the deadline.’
    ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Jackson. Mumsie spent all the dough she took.’
    Fisher made a gesture of disbelief. ‘She tell you that?’
    Red opened the door, motioned Fisher out.
    ‘Either you’re a liar or just a plain goddamned fool,’ said Fisher as he passed Red. He threw a sneer over one shoulder, pitched the half-smoked cigar short of the wastebasket and crossed the room.
    ‘Go home and read some more fairy tales. I’ll see you tomorrow night.’
    The door closed. Red went over and picked up the cigar butt, made sure it was out and dropped it in the wastebasket. Then he picked up the phone and dialed a number.
    ‘Start packing, my darling,’ Red said when Mumsie answered. ‘We’re going fishing.’
    * * *
    The moon slid out of sight behind the trees. Red lay beside Mumsie and thought about Fisher and what Fisher had said. Presently he asked, ‘Did you tell the truth, darling?’
    ‘About what?’ Her voice was sleepy.
    ‘The money you took from Sterling.’
    She pulled away from him and sat up. ’I’m going to bed.’
    His hand held her. ’Did you, Mumsie?’
    ‘That does it.’ Her fingers were gentle as she took his hand away. ‘You talked to him again and now you’re wondering who told the truth. You’ll keep on wondering. So it won’t work any more.’
    He wished he could see her face. He wished he could see the expression in her eyes, but the stars gave only enough light to tell him she was standing there above him.
    ‘It’s been nice,’ Mumsie said.
    He got up, slid one arm around her. ’I’m curious, that’s all. I don’t give a damn how much you stole from him. I’ve plenty left and I can work. But I don’t want you laughing at me. I don’t want you saying, “What a sucker he is—what a poor goddamned sucker!”’
    ‘Stop it!’ she cried out at him.
    His arm tightened. ’Why are you so afraid of Whit, Mumsie?’
    ‘I’m not.’
    ‘Sit down.’ He forced her back on the cot. Still holding her he told her about Jack Fisher. Mumsie listened and she seemed to be hunting for lost stars. She said, after a while, ‘I don’t blame you for doubting, Red. I don’t blame you a bit. You know too much about me. It doesn’t do to know too much.’
    ‘I’ll stop doubting,’ Red whispered. Yet he knew he never would.
    * * *
    Mr. Fisher put in an appearance two days later. Red wasn’t surprised to see him because Red had confided in his secretary where he was going. Jack