Chapter 1

           Atlastitwasevening.Thelightsinthestreetoutsidecameon,andtheNeonrestaurantsignonthecornerjerkedonandoff,explodingitshardredlightintheair.IntoJimNolan’sroomthesignthrewasoftredlight.FortwohoursJimhadbeensittinginasmall,hardrocking-chair,hisfeetuponthewhitebedspread.Nowthatitwasquitedark,hebroughthisfeetdowntothefloorandslappedthesleepinglegs.Foramomenthesatquietlywhilewavesofitchingrolledupanddownhiscalves;thenhestoodupandreachedfortheunshadedlight.Thefurnishedroomlightedup—thebigwhitebedwithitschalk-whitespread,thegolden-oakbureau,thecleanredcarpetwornthroughtoabrownwarp.

           Jimsteppedtothewashstandinthecornerandwashedhishandsandcombedwaterthroughhishairwithhisfingers.Lookingintothemirrorfastenedacrossthecorneroftheroomabovethewashstand,hepeeredintohisownsmallgreyeyesforamoment.Fromaninsidepockethetookacombfittedwithapocketclipandcombedhisstraightbrownhair,andparteditneatlyontheside.Heworeadarksuitandagreyflannelshirt,openatthethroat.Withatowelhedriedthesoapanddroppedthethinbarintoapaperbagthatstoodopenonthebed.AGilletterazorwasinthebag,fourpairsofnewsocksandanothergreyflannelshirt.Heglancedabouttheroomandthentwistedthemouthofthebagclosed.Foramomentmorehelookedcasuallyintothemirror,thenturnedoffthelightandwentoutthedoor.

           Hewalkeddownnarrow,uncarpetedstairsandknockedatadoorbesidethefrontentrance.Itopenedalittle.Awomanlookedathimandthenopenedthedoorwider—alargeblondewomanwithadarkmolebesidehermouth.

           Shesmiledathim."Mis-terNolan,"shesaid."