s observation was proven when they
came to a restaurant with the front window broken out and saw a man and
a woman sitting at one of the tables.

* * * * *

He was a huge man with a shock of black hair and a mouth slightly open
showing a set of incredibly white teeth. He waved an arm and shouted,
"Come on in! Come on in for crissake and sit down! We got beer and roast
beef and the beer's still cold. Come on in and meet Minna."

This was different, Nora thought. Not eerie. Not weird, like seeing a
man standing on a deserted street corner with no one else around. This
seemed normal, natural, and even the smashed window didn't detract too
much from the naturalness.

They went inside. There were chairs at the table and they sat down. The
big man did not get up. He waved a hand toward his companion and said,
"This is Minna. Ain't she something? I found her sitting at an empty bar
scared to death. We came to an understanding and I brought her along."
He grinned at the woman and winked. "We came to a real understanding,
didn't we, Minna?"

Minna was a completely colorless woman of perhaps thirty-five. Her skin
was smooth and pale and she wore no makeup of any kind. Her hair was
drawn straight back into a bun. The hair had no predominating color. It
was somewhere between light brown and blond.

She smiled a little sadly, but the laugh did not cover her worn, tired
look. It seemed more like a gesture of obedience than anything else.
"Yes. We came to an understanding."

"I'm Jim Wilson," the big man boomed. "I was in the Chicago Avenue jug
for slugging a guy in a card game. They kind of overlooked me when they
cleaned the joint out." He winked again. "I kind of helped them overlook
me. Then I found Minna." There was tremendous relish in his words.

Frank started introductions which Nora Spade cut in on. "Maybe you know
what happened?" she asked.

Wilson shook his head. "I was in the jug and they didn't tell us. They
just started cleaning out the joint. There was talk in the
bullpen--invasion or something. Nobody knew for sure. Have some beer and
meat."

Nora turned to the quiet Minna. "Did you hear anything?"

"Naw," Wilson said with a kind of affectionate contempt. "She don't know
anything about it. She lived in some attic dump and was down with a sore
throat. She took some pills or something and when she woke up they were
gone."

"I went to work and--" Minna began, but Wilson cut he