“Uh.”

“Well, they’re perfectly lovely, aren’t they?” She sniffed industriously, as if determined to inhale not merely the bouquet but the petals as well. “And fragrant. Donald Brown. It’s a familiar name, but-well, I’m sure there’s been a mistake, but I’ll just enjoy them all the same. I’ll have to get down a vase, I’ll have to put them in water-” She broke off suddenly, remembering that I was there. “Is there something else, young man?”

“Well, I just-”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I’m forgetting you, aren’t I? Just one moment, let me get my bag. I’ll just put these down, here we are, here we are, and thank you very much, and my thanks to Donald Brown, whoever he may be.”

The door closed.

I turned and there was the goddamned elevator, waiting for to carry me home. The attendant wasn’t exactly smiling but he did look amused. I rode down and walked through the lobby. The doorman grinned when he saw me coming.

“Well,” he said. “How’d you make out, fella?”

“Make out?”

“She give you a good tip?”

“She gave me a quarter,” I said.

“Hey, cheer up, that’s not bad for Tremaine. She doesn’t part with a nickel all year round and then at Christmas she tips the building staff five bucks a man. That’s ten cents a week. Can you believe it?”

“Sure,” I said. “I can believe it.”

CHAPTER Seven

I didn’t keep Leona Tremaine’s quarter for very long. I walked around the corner, passed a watering hole called Big Charlie’s, and had a cup of coffee at a lunch counter on Madison Avenue, where I left the quarter as a tip, hoping it would delight the waitress as much as it had delighted me. I got out of there and started walking uptown until I came to a florist.

It was past four. The shift would have changed by now, unless someone was late. Still, it would probably be easier getting past a crew who’d seen me last night than convincing the doorman and concierge I wanted to make another in-person delivery.