Hinch swung the Chrysler into a slot. A dozen others were occupied by cars and trucks. He turned off the ignition and started to get out.

“Hold it.” Furia turned to examine Goldie in the violet haze. “You got blood on your nose. Wipe it off.”

“I thought I wiped it off.”

He ripped a tissue from the box over the dash, spat on it, and handed it to her. “The left side.”

She examined her nose in her compact mirror, scrubbed the smudge off, used the puff.

“Do I look all right for Local Yokel?”

Furia laughed again. That’s twice in three minutes. He’s real turned on. He’ll try to be a man-mountain in bed tonight.

“We don’t sit together,” Furia said to Hinch. “You park at the counter. Goldie and me we’ll find a booth or somewheres.”

“That’s using your tank, Fure.”

“Goldie don’t think so. Do you, Goldie?”

He was sounding amused. Goldie risked it. “Does it matter what I think?”

“Not a goddam bit,” Furia said cheerfully. He got out with the black bag and made for the diner steps without looking back.

That’s what I love about you, you’re such a little gentleman.

The diner was busy, not crowded. Furia went in first and snagged a booth from four teenagers who had been nursing cheeseburgers and malts. Goldie managed to join him at the cost of a few stares. She saw no one she recognized. She slipped behind the partition and hid her miniskirt under the fake marble top. I told Fure I ought to wear slacks tonight but no he’s got to show off my legs like we’re on the town, these studs will remember me.

She was angrier with Furia than when he had struck her.

Hinch slouched in a minute later and settled his bulk on a stool a few feet away. He became immediately enchanted with one of the girls behind the counter, who had just come out of the kitchen. The girl had sprayshine black hair done up in exaggerated bouffant and a rear end that jerked from side to side as she moved.