When I was at last released from the tuxedo and ready to have a final night’s sleep in a good bed before heading off to an unknown number of nights’ sleep in unknown circumstances, I lay down in my bed at the Arundel and almost at once a knock came at my door. Three quick, firm raps. I rose and moved quietly across the room, and as I did, my mind finally began to work properly and I anticipated what this was, the mention of it seeming to have been a very long time ago, with all that food in between. But I did not touch the doorknob; I turned my head to listen; and as if I’d been observed the whole time, a voice outside immediately said, “Cobb. It’s Smith.” I opened the door. He had his suit jacket on, but his tie was askew. I was willing to bet his shirt sleeves were rolled up under there as well. He held a kit bag and an oversized, cabin-top leather valise. “Come in,”
What do You think about The Star Of Istanbul (2013)?
