A heavy Dutchman checked me in with grave courtesy, tips on restaurants, and a few ponderous quips. I wasn’t in the mood. Did he have an envelope and a safe, I asked. He nodded. I threw the chips in the envelope and watched while he put them away. I got a key and went to my room.I had a top floor room with an ocean view, and a sliding door which opened onto a cement deck. The beach stretched for miles to my right, below green hills. It was bleach-white and sheltered by low palms. We were on a bay; the far hills curled back out to reach for the sea. A tame surf crept in, lulling and regular, with a deep satisfied sound. Out beyond, the sun caught jets of white in the dark azure, glistening like mica. I watched it for a while. Then I shook myself, showered, and put on a fresh suit.The phone was next to my bed. I lay down, leaning on my elbows, and thought for a long time. I started to reach for the phone, then stopped, thinking of Lehman. Then I stretched for the phone and had the switchboard place the call.
