Eric felt a sudden surge inside. “Then you did find something out! Tell me. I’ll still pay you. I’ll pay you double!”

Polikaitos sat down slowly, shook his head. “Why are the young so stubbornly stupid. Or stupidly stubborn?”

“Stubborn I am, stupid I’m not,” Eric shot back.

“You don’t prove it by me.” He hesitated a moment longer before turning to the terminal on his left. “Hokay. Give me the credit card.” Eric handed it over. Polikartos shoved it into a receive slot and tapped on the screen. He made certain the numbers appeared oversize so that Eric could read them. Eric blanched at the amount but said nothing.

Polikartos waited long after the transaction had been filed, then shook his head again and handed the card back to his client.

“What you want to know this for anyway, a nice young man like you?”

“That’s my business, isn’t it? You do advertise yourself as a ‘private’ investigator.”

“Yes, yes, don’t be clever with me. You irritate me enough as is.” He swung around in the swivel chair and activated the second console. This screen he kept concealed from Eric’s line of sight. Though Eric was burning to see what appeared on the terminal, he held his seat. Any sudden moves at this point and he didn’t doubt that Polikartos would forget all over again. He held his curiosity and waited.

Polikartos spoke without looking at him, his attention focused on the screen. “You know what I think? I think maybe you’re too dumb or too naive to be harmed by this. So I’m going to tell you what I’ve found out. You wanted to know about the woman in the car?” He nodded, answering his own rhetorical question. “I know who she is. Sort of. Not from here.”

“Where?” Eric asked with quiet intensity.

“Stubborn,” Polikartos was muttering. “Stubborn and stupid. Nueva York, back East.”

“That’s not very specific.”

“Intentionally so. It’s better not to be too specific. Besides, you’re paying me for general information, not specificity.”

Eric let it slide. “Who is she, what does she do … is she married?”

“Her name is Lisa Tambor. She is, or was, a model. I’m not especially certain of that. But it’s not her occupation now.”

“What’s that, what does she do?”

Polikartos smirked at him. “All kinds of names for it, my smitten-silly friend. Some would say she’s a professional companion. Others that she is an associate, others private property of some important individual or individuals who value their privacy and don’t like strangers poking into their business.

“As to exactly who or what she belongs to or with, that I couldn’t find out. I got the distinct impression it wouldn’t be healthy to try to find out. Maybe government, maybe industry, maybe the underworld. Sometimes the lines blur.”

“I’d think the distinctions would be clear enough.” Polikartos shook his head sadly. “You are naive, aren’t you?”

“Then enlighten me.”

“Not this time.”

“I’ve paid you a lot of money.”

“Which I probably should have refused. Always I am weak where money is concerned. I should never have let you into this office. I should not have told you as much as I have. I will not tell you anything else. There is nothing else to tell. Go and get the police if you feel cheated.”

“I don’t understand,” Eric muttered plaintively. “It doesn’t seem like such a complex request. I think you’ve done the minimum necessary to satisfy your conscience and quit on me.”

“As a matter of fact, Abbott, I’ve done a lot more for you than was minimally necessary or was even advisable. But I see I’m not going to be able to convince you of that.” He paused thoughtfully, eyeing a blank terminal. When he spoke again it was in a gentler, almost paternal voice.

“Listen to me, young man. I am going to give you a lesson in life, a part of life you know nothing of and will be much happier to remain ignorant of. I’ve been in this business for a long time. There are rules people play by. Most of society goes by the written ones. Some of it goes by the unwritten. There are things a man can do and things he can’t, questions you can ask and questions better kept to yourself.

“When you ask a certain question of previously helpful contacts around the country and all of them either tell you to do the biologically impossible, or give you funny looks, or tell you to shut up, or refuse to answer their phones, then the preponderance of evidence suggests it be best to accept all this advice and pass it on to your client. Which is what I’m doing now.” He leaned back in his chair and it creaked.

“Go home, Mr. Abbott. Forget about this business. Go home.”

Eric considered everything the investigator had told him. Not that it mattered. He was beyond reasoning with himself. He was beyond considering, or thinking of anything save that haunting, alluring visage he’d glimpsed through the shatterproof glass of the Cadota.

One nice thing about disregarding good advice: once you ignore it, putting logic and common sense aside, there’s nothing left to prevent you from pursuing your goal.

He tried not to sound desperate. “Look, one way or another I have to get in touch with this woman.”

Polikartos didn’t reply immediately. At least there was no outburst of derisive laughter. “I’m waiting for you to leave, Mr. Abbott,” he said quietly. “If you don’t leave, it will be I who ends up calling for the police.”

Eric put his hands on the desk, leaned close. “I just want to talk to her once, that’s all. You don’t have to be involved in any way. It’s in a different city, for crying out loud. There’s no way you could be connected.”

“I’m no matchmaker.”

“I didn’t imply that you were, or that I need one.”

The investigator sighed, turned to stare at his former client. “Never have I seen so strong or so silly an infatuation. More’s the pity for you. Take it from one who knows, it will pass.”

“I don’t want it to pass,” Eric almost shouted. “I want to meet her!” He reached into a pocket, brought out his wallet. Polikartos said nothing, but his gaze flicked toward the fine imitation-leather wallet. Eric extracted another credit card, slid it across the desktop.

“You know these are good. You know what my limit is. It’s considerable. I make a good living, have for many years, and I spend very little of what I make. You can have it all, as much as you need.”

“You don’t make as much as you think, Mr. Abbott.”

Eric thought frantically. “I have other investments—municipal bonds, stocks. They can be transferred without the transaction’s being recorded. You name it and I’ll supply it.” He indicated the card. “That’s just the beginning.”

Polikartos was sweating inside. He hesitated a long time. Then he reached out and palmed the card with a convulsive grab. He processed it through the right-side terminal, watched closely as Eric initialed the blank draft. Then he handed the card back to its owner.

“You put a lot of trust in someone who’s not been very nice or encouraging, Mr. Abbott. How do you know I won’t deposit all your money and tell you nothing in return?”

“I’ve been in my business a long time, too. Long enough to recognize a professional in another field as well as in my own.”

Polikartos nodded once, sharply. “So. You’re one crazy young man, Abbott. Crazy. I guess maybe I’m a little crazy also.”

Eric smiled across the desk. “That explains why we’ve hit it off so well, doesn’t it?”

The investigator eyed the bank draft. “This is a lot of money, Mr. Abbott. I warn you, this could cost you nearly as much as you think it might.”

“I don’t care. Just get me her address. One lousy address. That’s all I need from you.”

“That’s all, he says.” Polikartos was still wrestling with himself, still wavering. Second thoughts.

“You’ve accepted my card,” Eric told him, trying to help him over the edge.

“But I haven’t spent any of it yet, haven’t made use of it. It’s still only numbers in an electronic file.”