I said, “Really. Well, that’s accommodating. What’s she think is going on?”

“Beats me. I didn’t tell her nothing.” He tapped his head to show he was using his brains. “So, now what do we do?”

“Transform you into a girl and get you out of here.” I turned to June. “I need you to call a taxi. Tell the dispatcher the pickup’s a blond woman in a camel-hair coat who’ll be on Hidalgo at the side entrance to the Butler Hotel.”

“How soon?”

“Ten minutes. And tell the cabbie to wait in case it takes longer than we think.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” June said as she moved away.

I made Pinky perch on the toilet lid while I took the wig from my head and secured it to his. He didn’t look that bad as a blonde, though his wide shoulders and swarthy complexion gave him the look of a middle-aged Miami transvestite. Once he slipped into the camel-hair coat, most of his tattoos disappeared. I thought he’d pass muster from afar. With luck, he’d be able to walk the half block, slip in the hotel’s front entrance, and out the side door.

I wrote Rosie’s address on the back of the receipt from the wig shop and gave him thirty bucks in cash. “I’ll call and tell her you’re coming. She’ll keep you out of sight until I get home. It won’t be until after dark so don’t get antsy on me. Any questions?”

“Can you call Dodie and tell her I’m okay? I know she’s worried about me.”

“That can wait. I talked to her a while ago and she’s fine.”

“She’ll feel better if she hears my voice.”

“Listen to me. Are you listening? Do not call her. She thinks the house is bugged and she may well be right. A phone conversation would be picked up.”

“I wouldn’t say where I was.”

“What if your home line has a trap on it?”

“Wouldn’t matter. I’d be quick. I could use a special code to let her know I’m safe.”

“How can you concoct a code without talking to her first?”

“I could ask about the parrot, which she knows we don’t have. I could say, ‘Is the parrot fine?’ and like that.”

“Pinky, please don’t make life any more complicated than it is. This is all beside the point. Dodie told me about the mug shots of her. Where’d you put the second set of photographs?”

He parted the front of his shirt slightly, and I could see a portion of the manila envelope. “I’m not letting go of this until I hand it over.”

“Good plan.”

Shyly, he patted the sides of the blond wig. “How do I look?”

“Adorable,” I said. “Here’s the drill. I’m going to stroll out the front door and go around the corner to the parking lot where I’ll pick up my car. You wait five or six minutes and then leave and head in the opposite direction. You know where the Butler is?”

“Sure. It’s up on the corner.”

“Perfect. You take the cab to Rosie’s and stay put. Her husband will bring you to my place after dark. Are we clear?”

“I guess.”

“All right. Once I leave, you wait . . .”

“I got it already. Five minutes and I hoof it up to the Butler.”

“Don’t hoof it. Stroll. See you later.”

June let me borrow the phone and I called Rosie’s. William answered and when I explained what we were doing, he said he’d be happy to help. I told him to stick Pinky in a booth with his back to the door. I’d be grateful if Rosie agreed to feed him supper, though I did caution him with regard to alcohol, as I wasn’t sure about Pinky’s tolerance. As soon as it was fully dark, William was to walk Pinky to Henry’s house, using the alleyway that runs along his rear property line. I figured a nice-looking elderly couple out and about at that hour wouldn’t attract much notice.

I retrieved my car and headed for home. My route was straightforward, though I did stop briefly at the supermarket to pick up milk and toilet paper. I hoped to give any surveillance types the impression that I was dull-witted and unsuspecting. I still hadn’t identified a tail, but it was a safe bet one was there. When I finally pulled into Henry’s driveway, I left the Mustang parked in front of the garage doors. I let myself into the studio and turned on the lights. I closed the lower bank of shutters in the living room and went up the spiral stairs to the bedroom, where I turned on additional lights. When I came downstairs again, I spent a few minutes crawling along the baseboards again, looking for a listening device. The studio was still clean, at least as far as I could tell. I turned on the television set, sound slightly higher than I liked it in case anyone was there to overhear. I turned off the outside lights as though I were in for the night and then eased out the door again and crossed the patio to Henry’s house.