Light step, the steps of a woman, came along the invisible pathway and the man in front of me moved forward and seemed to lean against the fog. I couldn't see the woman, then I could see her indistinctly. The arrogant carriage of her head seemed familiar. The man stepped out very quickly. The two figures blended into the fog, seemed to be part of the fog. There was dead silence for a moment. The man said:
"This is a gun, lady. Gentle now. Sound carries in the fog. Just hand me the bag."
The girl didn't make a sound. I moved forward a step. Quite suddenly I could see the foggy fuzz on the man's head. The girl stood motionless. Then her breathing began to make a rasping sound, like a small file on soft plastic.
"Yell," the man said, "and I'll cut you in half."
She didn't yell. She didn't move. There was a movement from him, and a dry chuckle. "It better be in there," he said. A catch clicked and a fumbling sound came to me. The man turned towards my tree. When he had taken three or four steps he chuckled again. The chuckle was something out of my own memories. I reached a pipe out of my pocket and held it like a gun.
I called out softly: "Hi, Lanny."
The man stopped dead and started to bring his hand up. I said: "No. I told you never to do that, Lanny. You're covered."
Nothing moved. The girl back on the path didn't move. I didn't move. Lanny didn't move.
"Put the bag down between your feet, kid," I told him. "Slow and easy."
He bent down. I jumped out and reached him still bent over. He straightened up against me breathing hard. His hands were empty.
"Tell me I can't get away with it," I said. I leaned against him and took the gun out of his overcoat pocket. "Somebody's always giving me guns," I told him. "I'm weighed down with them till I walk all crooked. Beat it." Our breaths met and mingled, our eyes were like the eyes of two tomcats on a wall. I stepped back.
"On your way, Lanny. No hard feelings. You keep it quiet and I keep it quiet. Okay?"
"Okay," he said thickly.
The fog swallowed him. The faint sound of his steps and then nothing. I picked the bag up and felt in it and went towards the path. She still stood there motionless, a grey fur coat held tight around her throat with one had on which a ring made a faint glitter. Her dark parted hair was part of the darkness of the night. He eyes too.
"Nice work, Marlowe. Are you my bodyguard now?" Her voice had a harsh note.
"Looks that way. Here's the bag."
She took it. I said: "Have you a car with you?"
She laughed. "I came with a man. What are you doing here?"
"Eddie Mars wanted to see me."
"I didn't know you knew him. Why?"
"I don't mind telling you. He thought I was looking for somebody he thought had run away with his wife."
"Then what did you come for?"
"To find out why he thought I was looking for somebody he thought had run away with his wife."
"Did you find out?"
"You leak information like a network announcer," she said. "I suppose it's none of my business - even if that man was my husband. I thought you weren't interested in that?"
"People keep throwing it at me."
She clicked her teeth in annoyance. The incident of the masked man with the gun seemed to have made no impression on her at all. "Well, take me to the garage," she said. "I have to look in at my escort."
We walked along the path and around a corner of the building and there was light ahead, then around another corner and came to a bright enclosed stable yard lit with two floodlights. It was still paved with brick and still sloped down to a grating in the middle. Cars and other craft glistened, and a man in a brown smock got up off a stool and came forward.
"Is my boyfriend still blotto?" Vivian asked him carelessly.
"I'm afraid he is, miss. I put a rug over him. He's okay, I guess. Just kind of resting."