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. My cash in pocket is becoming rather seldom.
Anemic."
"But dearest, I've tried to tell you. Money is no problem. She opened her
purse, dug out a wad of money, started peeling off hundred-crown notes. "I'm on
an expense account, of
course." She held them out. .
"Easy, there!" I said. "Save your pennies, little girl. / undertook to
support you. Not the other way around."
I expected a retort involving "macho" or "male chauvinist pig" or at least
"community property." Instead she flanked me. "Richard? Your bank account in
Golden Rule- Is it a numbered account? If not, under what name?"
"Huh? No. 'Richard Ames,' of course."
"Do you think Mr. Sethos might take an interest?"
"Oh. Our kindly landlord. Honey, I'm glad you're here to do my thinking for
me." A track leading straight to me as plain as footprints in snow... for
Sethos's goons to follow to collect that reward for my carcass-dead or alive. Of
course all bank records are confidential, not alone numbered accounts-but
"confidential" means only that it takes money or power to break the rules. And
Sethos had both. "Gwen, let's go back and booby-trap his air conditioning again.
But this time we'll use prussic acid instead of Limburger."
"Good!"
"I wish we could. You're right, I can't touch mat 'Richard Ames' bank
account as long as storm warnings are up. We'll use your cash-treat it as a
loan
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