Lemons Never Lie
“Martin!" Grofield, on his way by the front desk, stopped and looked at the clerk, feeling suddenly very wary. Barnes' car radio hadn't reported the robbery as yet, but it was ten minutes to three and the alarm should be going out pretty soon. And thirteen thousand dollars was in the attachй case dangling from his right hand.
He moved toward the desk, walking as though his shoes were glass. "Yes?" "There have been several calls from your wife." Grofield frowned. "My wife?" Mary knew where he was, naturally, and what name he was using, but she didn't know what the job was or when it would take place.
The clerk had some small papers in his hands. "She called first this morning at nine o'clock, and several times during the day. She wishes you to phone her at once, and she says it is urgent." There was some sort of undertone in the clerk's voice, something beyond what the words were saying. Grofield, his mind involved in the robbery, took longer than he should have to realize what it meant.
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