I stood beside her, touching her knees.
She came to her feet with a sudden lurch.
Our eyes were only inches apart.
"Hello, Silver-Wig," I said softly.
She stepped back, around the chair, and swept a package of cigarettes up off the table.
She jabbed one loose and pushed it roughly into my mouth.
Her hand was shaking.
She snapped a small green leather lighter and held it to the cigarette.
I drew in the smoke, staring into her lake-blue eyes.
While she was still close to me I said:
"A little bird named Harry Jones led me to you.
A little bird that used to hop in and out of cocktail bars picking up horse bets for crumbs.
Picking up information too.
This little bird picked up an idea about Canino.
One way and another he and his friends found out where you were.
He came to me to sell the information because he knew — how he knew is a long story — that I was working for General Sternwood.
I got his information, but Canino got the little bird.
He's a dead little bird now, with his feathers ruffled and his neck limp and a pearl of blood on his beak.
Canino killed him.
But Eddie Mars wouldn't do that, would he, Silver-Wig?
He never killed anybody.
He just hires it done."
"Get out," she said harshly. "Get out of here quick." Her hand clutched in midair on the green lighter.
The fingers strained. The knuckles were as white as snow.
"But Canino doesn't know I know that," I said. "About the little bird. All he knows is I'm nosing around."
Then she laughed. It was almost a racking laugh.
It shook her as the wind shakes a tree.
I thought there was puzzlement in it, not exactly surprise, but as if a new idea had been added to something already known and it didn't fit.
Then I thought that was too much to get out of a laugh.
"It's very funny," she said breathlessly. "Very funny, because, you see — I still love him.
Women — " She began to laugh again.
I listened hard, my head throbbing.
Just the rain still.
"Let's go," I said. "Fast."
She took two steps back and her face set hard.
"Get out, you!
Get out!
You can walk to Realito.
You can make it — and you can keep your mouth shut — for an hour or two at least.
You owe me that much."
"Let's go," I said. "Got a gun, Silver-Wig?"
"You know I'm not going.
You know that.
Please, please get out of here quickly."
I stepped up close to her, almost pressing against her.
"You're going to stay here after turning me loose?
Wait for that killer to come back so you can say so sorry?
A man who kills like swatting a fly.
Not much.
You're going with me, Silver-Wig."