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. Since he was sitting at my table, he could bloody well behave like an
invited guest. "Sir, if you don't want a full dinner, try the after-theater
suggestions. The lapin ragout on toast may be rat rather than rabbit but this
chef makes it taste like ambrosia."
"But I don't want-"
"Please." I looked up, caught my waiter's eye. "Morris."
Morris was at my elbow at once. "Three orders of lapin ragout, please.
Moms, and ask Hans to select a dry white wine for me."
"Yes, Dr. Ames."
"Don't serve until the lady returns, if you please."
"Certainly, sir."
I waited until the waiter had moved away. "My guest will be returning soon.
You have a brief time to explain yourself in private. Please start by telling me
your name."
"My name isn't important. I-"
"Come, sir! Your name. Please."
"I was told simply to say 'Walker Evans.'"
"Good as far as it goes. But your name is not Walker Evans and I do not
traffic with a man who won't give his name. Tell me who you are, and it would be
well to have an ID that matches your words."
"But- Colonel, it's far more urgent to explain who must die and why you are
the man who must kill him! You must admit that!"
"I don't have to admit anything. Your name, sir! And your ID. And please do
not call me 'Colonel'; I am Dr. Ames." I had to raise my voice not to be drowned
out by a roll of drums;
the late evening show was starting
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