“That’s good,” Bessie said with satisfaction. “But an hour ought to be way more than enough time for us to do it.”

“Do what?”

“To walk on over to the Old Alabama Hotel and get a quick bite. I know it’s more expensive than the diner, but if we just got a sandwich and split it between us, it shouldn’t be any more than a quarter apiece. I would’ve asked Verna, too,” Bessie added, “but she wasn’t in the office when I stopped. Mrs. Cole said she was out running an errand.”

Lizzy frowned. “Why do you want to go to the hotel?”

“Because Mr. Gold told Leona Ruth that he’s staying there,” Bessie replied. “If that’s true, then he ought to be taking his meals there, wouldn’t you reckon? I thought, if we could get a good look at him, we might be able to tell whether he’s a special agent or—” She stopped.

“Or what?” Lizzy asked, thinking of Verna’s guess that he was one of Al Capone’s henchmen. Both seemed equally improbable to her.

Bessie sighed plaintively. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s not a good idea. I just have this feeling that somebody ought to be doing something to find out who this man really is and why Miss Jamison is so deathly afraid of him. I can’t think of any other way to do it—and I certainly can’t go to the hotel by myself.”

Lizzy understood why. Nobody thought twice of a woman eating by herself at the diner, where she could sit at the counter and talk to Myra May or Violet or Euphoria while she enjoyed her meal. But it would be odd for a woman to eat in the Old Alabama dining room unless she was traveling or with someone. Still—

“I’m not sure why we should care who he is,” Lizzy said, stalling for time. “What business is it of ours?” She dropped another folder into the drawer. Then she realized that she’d put an “E” folder into the “L–R” drawer, and took it out.

Bessie leaned forward, her lined face intent. “Well, for starters, if he is a policeman or a special agent looking for those two women, it stands to reason that they are criminals, doesn’t it? Leona Ruth said that Miss Jamison looks like a gun moll to her—and she is no doubt spreading that very same thing all over town, right this minute.” She leaned back and folded her plump arms. “You know Leona Ruth. When she gets through with Miss Jamison and her friend, nobody in Darling will have a blessed thing to do with them, regardless of who they are.”