Playback [antikvár]

ONE The voice on the telephone seemed to be sharp and peremptory, but I didn't hear too well what it said—partly because I was only half awake and partly because I was holding the receiver upside down. I fumbled it around and grunted. "Did you hear me? I said I was Clyde Umney, the lawyer." "Clyde Umney, the lawyer. I thought we had several of them." "You're Marlowe, aren't you?" "Yeah. I guess so." I looked at my wrist watch. It was 6:30 A.M., not my best hour. "Don't get fresh with me, young man." "Sorry, Mr. Umney. But I'm not a young man. I'm old, tired and full of no coffee. What can I do for you, sir?" "I want you to meet the Super Chief at eight o'clock, identify a girl among the passengers, follow her until she checks in somewhere, and then report to me. Is that clear?" "No." "Why not? " he snapped. "I don't know enough to be sure I could accept the case." "I'm Clyde Um—" "Don't," I interrupted. "I might get hysterical. Just tell me the basic facts. Perhaps another investigator would suit you better. I never was an FBI man." 3