Feeling rather foolish I put the gun back inside my armpit. I dug in my bag for a comb and did the best I could to style my hair in the dark. The people across from me were still having trouble maneuvering their car when I climbed from the Impala. Proving that Carol was wrong, that I could overlook someone in trouble, I left them to it.

The Dortmunder restaurant, one of Lotty’s and my favorite hangouts, was only a few blocks away. In the basement of the Chesterton Hotel, it serves sandwiches and hearty dinners surrounded by a fabulous wine cellar. Normally I like to get a bottle of something rich, a Saint-Emilion or the like, but this was strictly a refueling stop before getting back to work.

I stopped in the hotel lobby’s rest room to wash up. I was wearing jeans and a cotton knit top, not elegant dining apparel, but also not ruined by sleeping in a car. They were smelling a little ripe.

The staff at the Dortmunder greeted me enthusiastically, wanting to know if the doctor was joining me. When I explained that the doctor had been injured in a car accident the other day, they were appropriately concerned: How had it happened? How was she? My conscience rubbed me as I explained the bare outlines of the situation.

Lisa Vetec, granddaughter of the owner, ushered me to a table in a corner and took my order. While they made me a sandwich from their famed Hungarian salami I called Mr. Contreras. He was relieved to hear from me.

“Someone came around looking for you an hour or so ago. I told him you wasn’t in, but I didn’t like his looks.”

I asked Mr. Contreras what the visitor looked like. His description was sketchy, but I thought it might have been the man who followed me into the Belmont Diner this morning. If he wanted to see me urgently, our confrontation was only a matter of time. But if possible I’d be the one to choose both the time and the place.

I tapped my front teeth with a knuckle while I considered the situation. “I think I’m going to move out for a day or two. I’ll be over in about an hour to pick up a few things. I want to come in through the alley. I’ll call right before I get there—if you let me in maybe they won’t know I’ve come.”

“But where can you go, doll? I know you usually hang out with the doc, but …” He broke off with unusual delicacy.

“Yeah, I can’t involve Lotty in this anymore, even if she’d let me. It just dawned on me that I might be able to get a room down where Jake Sokolowski lives.”