Linda nodded. "Well, I'm sure it will do very nicely," she said. "Now let's go out to lunch."

The phone rang. Linda picked it up.

"Philip Marlowe's office," she said. Then she listened, and wrinkled her nose and handed the phone to me. "It must be a client, darling. He sounds appalling."

I said "Yeah" into the mouthpiece, and a voice I'd heard before said, "Marlowe, this is Manny Lipshultz."

"How nice for you," I said.

"Okay, sending a couple of hard boys after you was a mistake. I've made bigger."

I let that slide.

"If you're open for business I'd like to talk to you."

"Go ahead," I said.

"Can you come here?"

"The Agony Club?"

"Yeah. You know where it is?"

"Just out of Poodle Springs jurisdiction," I said. "When?"

"Now."

"I'll be out in half an hour," I said and hung up.

Linda was looking at me with her arms folded across her chest. I let my chair squeak back and put my hands behind my head and smiled at her. She had on a ridiculous little white hat with the hint of a veil, and a sleeveless little white dress and sling strap high-heeled white shoes, the right toe of which was tapping the floor.

"I'll be out in half an hour?" she said.

"First client," I said. "I have to earn a living."

"And our lunch?"

"Call Tino, maybe he'd like to join you."

"I can't go to lunch with the houseboy."

I stood. "I'll drop you off at home."

She nodded and turned and went out of the office ahead of me. When I dropped her off she didn't kiss me good-bye, even though I went around and opened the door for her. A charmer, Marlowe. A model of courtliness.

The Agony Club was northeast of Poodle Springs, just over the line in Riverside County. A famous actor had set out to build himself a castle in the desert and then a reversal of fortune based on an incident with a 15-year-old girl, and the castle was a casualty.