I nodded again. "Something like that," I said quietly.
She looked down at the tablecloth silently.
When she looked up at me, her eyes were clear once more.
"Thank you for telling me, Jonas.
Somehow, I feel better now."
"Good." The waiter came by and refilled our coffee cups. "By the way," I said, "seen anything of your father lately?"
She shook her head with a wry smile.
"About two years ago, he came out to dinner and borrowed a thousand dollars.
That's the last I saw of him."
"Do you have any idea where he might be?"
"Why?"
"I’ve got a good job for him up in Canada, but he seems to have dropped out of sight."
A strange look came into her eyes.
"You mean you'd give him a job after what he did to you?"
"I haven't much choice," I said reluctantly. "I don't especially like the idea but there's a war on. I need a man like him."
"I had a letter from him about a year ago.
He said something about taking over as manager of the Teterboro Airport."
"Thanks," I said. "I’ll look out there."
Her hand suddenly came across the table and pressed mine.
I looked at her in surprise.
She smiled.
"You know, Jonas, I have the strangest feeling you're going to make a much better friend than husband."
5.
McAllister was waiting for me in the hotel when I got back the next afternoon.
"You find him?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"He only stayed out there long enough to pass a bum check for five hundred bucks on some poor jerk."
"That's pretty far down the ladder for him.
Any idea where he went next?"
"No," I said. I threw my topcoat across a chair and sat down. "For all I know, he's in jail in some hick town we never heard of.
Bum check – Jesus!"
"What do you want me to do?" Mac asked.
"Nothing," I said.
"But I promised Roger I’d try to find him.
We better put an agency on the job.
If they can't turn him up, at least Roger will know I tried.
You call Hardin?"
Mac looked at me curiously. "Yes.
He'll be here any minute now.
Why do you want to see him?"
"We might go into the publishing business."
"What for?" Mac asked. "You don't even read the papers."
I laughed.
"I hear he's thinking of putting out a movie magazine. I'm making a picture.
The best way I know to grab space is to own a magazine. I figure if I help him out with the movie magazine, he'll give us a plug in his others. That adds up to twelve million copies a month."
Mac didn't say anything.
The doorbell rang and Robair went to open it.
It was S. J. Hardin, right on time.
He came into the room, his hand outstretched.
"Jonas, my boy," he wheezed in his perennially hoarse voice. "It's good to see you."