“On the first of each month I was sometimes acutely aware of the price I paid for the view, yet I never really regretted the extravagance. On a clear night, from the east slope of Telegraph Hill, any price seemed worthwhile. It was eight twenty. She was twenty minutes late. Perhaps, after all, she wouldn’t come. It had happened before: an anonymous phone call, arranging a fictitious appointment. If she didn’t come by nine, I decided, I’d go to a movie. It was Friday night, after all. And even th...ough I had nothing specially planned, it seemed a shame to— The doorbell sounded, sharp and startling. Hastily I rose to my feet, crossed to the door and softly swung open the cover of the wide-angle scanner. I saw an oddly assorted couple standing in the dim light. The woman was middle-aged, plainly dressed, dumpy and dowdy. At her side stood a small, misshapen man whose head barely reached his companion’s shoulder. If the woman’s clothes were nondescript, the man’s clothes were almost flamboyantly stylish.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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