“Honest Irving,” Dortmunder said.

“His stuff is just as good as everybody else’s,” Kelp assured him, “same quality, great prices, only maybe you shouldn’t try to take the manufacturer up on the warranty.”

“Speedshop,” Dortmunder said, remembering his own after-hours visit to that place. “They got a lotta security there.”

“For a couple guys like us?” Kelp spread his hands to show how easy it would be, and the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” May said. She stood, left her beer behind, and headed for the kitchen, as the phone rang again.

“I know I’m wasting my breath,” Kelp said, “but what a help for May it could be, I give you a nice little extension phone in here.”

“No, thank you.”

“One phone in an entire apartment,” Kelp said, and shook his head. “And not even cordless. You take back-to-basics a little too far back, John.”

“I also don’t think,” Dortmunder said, “I wanna buck Speedshop, not again. I mean, even before the question of Honest Irving.”

Kelp said, “Where’s a question about Honest Irving?”

“The day will come, an operation like that,” Dortmunder said, “all of a sudden you’ve got this massive police presence in the store, cops looking at serial numbers, wanting bills of sale, all this paperwork, and whadaya think the odds are, we’re there unloading television sets when it happens?”

“A thousand to one,” Kelp said.

“Yeah? I make it even money,” Dortmunder said, and May came in, looking worried. He looked at her. “What’s up?”

“That was Anne Marie,” she said, referring to Kelp’s live-in friend. “She says there’s a guy in the apartment, says he wants to see Andy, just waltzed in, won’t give a name, just sits there. Anne Marie doesn’t like it.”

“Neither do I,” Kelp said, getting to his feet. “I better go.”

“John will go with you,” May said.

There was a little silence as Dortmunder reached for his beer can. He lifted his eyes, and they were both looking at him. “Uh,” he said, and put the beer can down again. “Well, naturally,” he said, and got to his feet.