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"What everybody thinks, Dave, is that you have a nice girl," Wohl said. "If anybody thought different, you wouldn't get teased."
"That's right, Dave," Sabara agreed solemnly.
Pekach looked intently at each of them. He smiled, shrugged, and walked out of the room.
When he was out of earshot, Sabara said, "But you were right, that's what you call it, a nooner."
"Captain Sabara, for a Sunday school teacher, you're a dirty old man," Wohl said. "I should be back in an hour. If something important comes up, put it on the radio."
"Yes, sir," Sabara said.
****
Martha Peebles was on the lawn, armed with the largest hedge clippers Dave Pekach had ever seen-they looked like two of King Arthur's swords or something stuck together- when he drove into the drive. She waved it at him when she saw him.
He parked the car in the garage, where it wouldn't attract too much attention, and walked toward the house. She met him under the portico.
"Hello, Precious," she said. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," he said. "What are you going to do with that thing?"
She pointed the clippers in the general direction of his crotch and opened and closed it. Both of his hands dropped to protect the area.
"Oh, come on," she said. "You know I wouldn't want to hurt that."
"I don't know," he said. "I hope not."
"Something is wrong," she said. "I can tell. Something happen at Bustleton and Bowler?"
"Nothing that anybody can do anything about," Pekach said.
"Well," she said, taking his arm. "You can tell me all about it over lunch. I made French onion soup. Made it. Not from one of those packet things. And a salad. With Roquefort dressing."
"Sounds good," he said.
"And there'snobody in the house," she said. "Which I just happen to mentionen passant and not to give you any ideas."
****
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"I always wonder when I eat this stuff," Jason Washington said as he skillfully picked up a piece of Peking Beef with chopsticks and dipped it in a mixture of mustard and plum preserves, "if they really eat it in Peking, or whether it was invented here by some Chinaman who figured Americans will eat anything."
"It's good," Peter Wohl said.
"They use a lot of monosodium glutamate," Washington said. "To bring the taste out. It doesn't bother me, but it gets to Martha. She thought she was having a heart attack-angina pectoris."
"Really?"
"Pain in the pectoral muscles," Washington explained, and pointed to his pectorals.
"She went to the doctor and told him that whenever she had Chinese food, she had angina pectoris. He said, in that case, don't eat Chinese food. And then, when she calmed down, he told her that making diagnoses was his business, and about the monosodium glutamate."
"I didn't know that," Wohl said, "about monosodium glutamate."
In his good time, Wohl thought, Jason will get around to telling me what's on his mind. He didn't ask if I was free for lunch because he didn't want to eat Peking Beef alone.
"I feel really bad about Matt Payne," Washington said. "If I had any idea he was going to see that Detweiler girl, I would have stopped him."
