"My name is Kinsey Millhone. I'm an investigator from California. I'm trying to locate Elaine Boldt."

"What for?" Her tone was flat, guarded, no lilt at all and no graciousness.

"Her sister's been trying to get in touch with her to sign a legal document. Can you tell me where she is?"

There was a cautious silence. "Are you here to serve me papers?"

"No." I took out the photostatic copy of my license and passed it through the crack. The license disappeared smoothly, like a bank card being sucked into an instant-cash machine. After an interval, it came back.

"Just a minute. I'll see if I can find her address."

She left the door ajar, still secured by the chain. I felt a little flash of hope. Maybe I was making progress. If I could track Elaine down in another day or two, I'd feel pretty smug, which sometimes counts as much as money whatever business you're in. I waited, staring down at the welcome mat. The letter B was defined in dark bristles, surrounded by bristles in a lighter shade. Did they have enough mud in Florida to justify a mat like that? It was coarse enough to rip the bottom of your shoe off. I glanced to my left. Just off the balcony, I could see palm trees with little beaded skirts near the top. Pat Usher was back, still talking through the crack.

"I must have thrown it out. She was in Sarasota last I heard."

Already, I was tired of talking to the door and I felt a surge of irritation. "Do you mind if I come in? It's about the settlement on somebody's estate. She could pick up two or three thousand dollars if I can just get her signature.' Appeal to greed, I thought. Appeal to the secret yearning for a windfall. Sometimes I use it as a ploy when I am tracking down a deadbeat who's run out on a bill. This time it was even true, so my voice had this wonderful sincere ring to it.

"Did the manager send you up here?"

"Come on, would you quit being paranoid? I'm looking for Elaine and I want to talk to you. You're the only person so far who seems to have any idea where she is."

Silence. She was pondering this as though it were an I.Q. test and she could pad the results. I had to struggle with the urge to bite. This was the only lead I had and I didn't want to blow it.

"All right," she said reluctantly, "let me get some clothes on first."