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going through a session with Shelly. Besides, I had the feeling that I had seen him …
    “Hammett,” I said.
    “Hammett,” he agreed.
    “I’ve seen your picture in the Times ,” I said.
    “I had a black mask as a kid,” Zanzibar Al said. “I forget the precise reason for it.”
    “Not for some time,” Hammett said. “May I suggest we go somewhere less awkward?”
    “I’ll give you a ride,” I said. “My limo is parked back here under the watchful eye of Zanzibar Al.”
    I stepped back, to reveal Al, whose right cheek twitched in embarrassment.
    “Pleased to meet you,” Al said.
    “And I you,” said Hammett.
    I dipped into my pocket, came up with two quarters and dropped them in Al’s waiting hand. It was more than double what I usually gave him, but the fee was being paid by the General.
    Hammett said no more as we moved to my car and I opened the door.
    “Never been in one of these,” he said as he climbed in.
    “You’re in for a rare treat,” I said.
    We drove past Al, who waved at us with the fist that still clutched the quarters.
    “You can get two bottles for that money in San Francisco or Spokane, if you know where to go,” Hammett said, looking straight ahead. “And I know where to go.”
    “Where can I take you?” I asked. “And why did you follow me?”
    “I’m staying in the Kingston on Beverly,” Hammett answered. “Dr. Minck gave you the right information. Last week I went to the Whitehall Street induction center in New York City and attempted to enlist. They turned me down. No surprise. I’m forty-eight years old. I’ve drunk as much or more than your friend Zanzibar. My lungs are shot from tuberculosis. The scars showed in my X-rays. Hell, I’m a disabled World War I veteran. I convinced them that I had stopped smoking and drinking, which I have, and that my lungs are all right, but they rejected me because of the teeth. So …”
    “You got on a plane, came to Los Angeles and picked the first dentist you ran into,” I said, heading west toward Sunset. “You couldn’t do it in New York?”
    “Something like that,” he agreed. “There’s a woman in New York who might succeed in talking me out of this. I wanted to get as far from New York as possible. When I go back I’ll need to be sober, have a healthy mouth and be inductable before I have to deal with Lillian.”
    “You could do better than Sheldon Minck,” I said.
    “Perhaps, but I could also do worse,” he said. “I think I picked him because his was the only package I have ever encountered which included a dental office and private investigation agency, and I’ve encountered some strange businesses.”
    “And you need a private investigator?” I asked.
    “No,” he said. “I’ve been in the business.”
    “I know,” I said. “Then …”
    “Let’s say I’m offering my services for a few days while Dr. Minck gets rid of some teeth and gives my mouth some semblance of health, at least cosmetic semblance.”
    He paused to let me take it in, and it was a lot to take in. The man at my side had written stories, books, movies. I’d seen the movies, read the books.
    “I’m no Sam Spade,” I said.
    “No one is, quite,” he said. “He’s the devil’s version of me at my worst and best.”
    “And I’m no Continental operative, though I probably look more like him,” I went on.
    Hammett inspected me.
    “No, Jimmy Wright, a Pink back in Baltimore, came the closest,” Hammett said.
    “So what is it? You want me to play Nora to your Nick?”
    “I considered spending a few days with my wife and daughters,” he said, “but it’s been too long and … if I go back to the hotel I’m likely to start smoking and remembering what a drink or two can do to get you through elastic hours. I don’t write anymore, not real stuff. If I can keep busy for two or three days and get back to New York sober and in reasonable shape, I can talk them into letting me enlist. The plain truth is that the U.S.