The Anonymous Client

desk.”
    Taylor opened the satchel. “O.K. The surface doesn’t look bad, but I’m not promising anything.”
    Tracy was hardly able to contain herself. She kept quiet, but her eyes sparkled as Mark Taylor pulled powders, brushes, a magnifying glass and a fingerprint camera out of the bag. He dusted powder on the desktop, and whistled.
    “Well, wrong again. I got ten beauties, Steve.”
    “Gonna lift ’em or photograph ’em?”
    “I’ll photograph ’em first, then I’ll lift ’em.”
    Mark Taylor busied himself with the prints. He’d finished photographing them and begun lifting them and transferring them to fingerprint cards when the phone rang. Tracy reluctantly tore herself away to answer it.
    It was for Mark Taylor. He took the phone, listened, and hung up.
    “You’re client’s an honest man, Steve,” he said.
    “How so?”
    “He went straight home, just like he said he would. He’s there now.”
    “How many men you got on him?”
    “Right now I’ve got four men and two cars. If he has any more visitors, I’ll throw in two more men and another car. This time he’s gonna stay put.”
    “Good. Can you trace those prints?”
    Taylor sighed. “If he’s got a record, we can trace them. It’s a bitch, but I can do it. But it’s gonna take time.”
    The phone rang again. Tracy picked it up, listened, said, “Just a minute,” and handed it to Mark Taylor.
    “Mark Taylor here ... Uh huh ... The Binghamton? ... descriptions ... Uh huh ... O.K., if they leave separately, split up and tail ’em. I may send another man. Whatever you do, don’t lose the girl. Stick with her and keep me posted.”
    Taylor hung up the phone.
    “Is that our girlfriend?” Steve asked.
    “Uh huh. She’s at the Binghamton. It looks like she’s gonna have dinner with a young couple who joined her in the cocktail lounge.”
    “What about the couple?”
    “Best bet is they’re married.”
    “To each other?”
    “More than likely. The guy’s about thirty, and the wife is a few years younger. They seem to know our young lady pretty well, and the meeting seems to have been arranged rather than accidental. The couple came in together, and I assume they’ll leave together, so I told my men to split up and have one take the girl and the other take the couple. Now then, do you want another man on the job in case the couple splits up?”
    Steve frowned thoughtfully. “If they’re married, they’ll probably go home together. Where is the Binghamton, anyway?”
    “Oh, it’s in Jersey. Right across the river. On the river, actually. It’s a boat. An old ferry boat. It’s permanently docked and outfitted as a restaurant. Kind of nice. You can sit and have dinner on the river.”
    “How’d the girl get there?”
    “In a taxi.”
    “What about the couple?”
    “I don’t know. They were there first. The girl walked in and joined them. I would assume they came in a car, but until they leave, there’s no way to find out.”
    “I see. Assuming they have a car, you would expect the girl to leave with them. But we can’t count on it. All right. Let’s assume the couple’s gonna leave together. So we don’t need another man. But what about cars? Are your two men in one car?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I think you better get another car down there then. I don’t want to take a chance on the couple getting away without our finding out who they are.”
    “Do you think it’s that important?”
    Steve shrugged. “That’s the hell of it. I don’t know. I’m in a very tricky position, ethically, and I’m being forced to do a lot of things I don’t want to do.”
    “Why?”
    “All right, look,” Steve said, “Either David C. Bradshaw’s my client or he isn’t.”
    “And either I’m a detective or I’m not.”
    “I’m serious, Mark. Either Bradshaw sent me the money or he didn’t.”
    “I thought we’d established he did.”
    Steve shook his head. “Yeah, but he wouldn’t admit it. And I keep trying to convince myself that he didn’t. ’Cause I don’t want him for a client. Now, I can get around the bills by figuring that he gave them to someone else. But there’s one thing I can’t get around.”
    “What’s that?”
    “He came to my office. The minute he noticed he was being followed he came straight to my office. He must have realized I traced the bills and hired detectives to find out about him. That means he sent the bills and the letter. So, much as I hate it, I’m forced to