“Not at all, Gunther,” I said, sinking down on my mattress on the floor. “I spent the night in your room. Don’t ask me. I’ll explain it after I’ve had some sleep. How was your trip to San Francisco?”
“Excellent,” he said, petting the cat, whose eyes closed contentedly. “I translated three librettos from French and one from German for possible English language presentation for the opera.”
“Terrific,” I said. “How about dinner after I get a few hours’ sleep?”
“By all means,” Gunther said. “I stopped for provisions and will prepare something light.”
“Something heavy will be fine, Gunther,” I said. “Something very heavy.”
“As you wish, Toby,” he said. “But my call is a bit more than social.”
I looked at Gunther blearily.
“You’ve got a problem?”
“Not I,” he said. “An acquaintance I worked with in San Francisco. It is rather delicate, and I suggested that I knew someone who might be of some assistance to him.”
“San Francisco,” I said. “Who’s the client?”
“Leopold Stokowski,” he said.
“I’ll give him a call tomorrow,” I said.
“The cat? He is yours?” Gunther asked.
“Let’s share him, Gunther,” I said. “If it’s all right with you.”
“That will be acceptable,” Gunther said, placing the cat gently on the sofa and climbing down. “What is his name?”
“Dash,” I said.
“A rare name,” said Gunther, walking to the door. “What is its origin?”
“A guy who gave me a hand,” I said, closing my eyes and putting my head back on the pillow.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 1989 by Stuart M. Kaminsky
This edition published in 2012 by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media
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Buried Caesars Page 19