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eighty-sixed me outta there ‘cause I wouldn’t let some dumbjacks do something they wanted to do to me. If I go back, Honker’ll pulp my face. That’s what he said he’d do. I don’t even know what pulp your face is but I don’t wanta know.”
    “I hear that, alright. This Verrick got anyone special he sees at that place?”
    “Sure, if she wasn’t just bragging. Every Friday night, that guy sees Rose Blue. Looks like a model, that girl. Blonde and tall and with the long legs, you know? Dresses in rose color, and blue, when she’s working. Thinks she’s the tippy top, like she got all her clients twisted around her pinky finger...”
    Should he try to get into the Four Clubs tonight? He could probably find Verrick if he watched the Blume Building, of course. But he didn’t want to be seen anywhere near Verrick’s turf. Didn’t want to go to that bastard’s center of power unless he had to. It’d be too well protected, too well watched. He needed to catch Verrick off guard.
    If a guy wasn’t off-guard in the hooker suite of a mob casino, where was he off-guard?
     “So how about that party, Mickey?” Lulu said, elbowing him. “It’s Friday night, time to let your hair down and your pants too.”
    “You deserve top dollar, Lulu. Can’t afford it. But here...let me buy you another drink.” He put one more twenty on the bar. That was half his money gone. “You give me your phone number, I’ll get back to you when I get a paycheck...”
    “I like that, you’re a guy thinks ahead! Not that many guys think ahead. They think ‘get into her pants right now’. You’re a good guy, Mickey. Hey Harry? Another Courvoisier!”
    #
    Walking along the southern edge of The Loop, backpack with his laptop in it over one shoulder, Wolfe turned the collar of his coat against The Hawk. Putting up his collar didn’t help much. The cold wind stung his eyes, burned his ears, made his lips feel numb.
    If he could find that casino, he’d get out of this November wind. But he might get tossed back into it pretty quick.
    He looked around, saw nothing that looked remotely like a casino—but since it was illegal, it wouldn’t look like one on the outside. There were half a dozen casinos in outlying areas but gambling was still illegal within city limits. Didn’t matter, the Four Clubs was run by, guess who, The Club mob, so it didn’t have to be legal. It just had to be discreet. If Wolfe could find it, he might be able to get Verrick alone...
    It was Friday night but not much action in this neighborhood; just the occasional cab passing, and the corkscrewing of trash swept along by the Hawk on this corner of Van Buren. That it was Friday, with Verrick likely at the Four Clubs, was one piece of good luck. And there was another bit of luck who was now getting out of that cab in front of that old, unmarked brick office building on the corner: a tall, modelesque blonde in a rose and blue outfit. She wore a tight, upscale rose-colored party dress, with a light blue short jacket, with rose-glass necklace, rose purse and pumps.
    If that was Rose Blue, and that antiquated four-story office building on the corner was the front for the Four Clubs casino, then he just might be within spitting distance of Major Roger Verrick. Retired....
    Wolfe crossed under the raised tracks of the L Train, angling to pass fairly close to Rose Blue—close enough he caught a whiff of her rose scented perfume—but acting as if he were planning to head around the corner of the building. He put on the groggy “lost junkie” act he’d sometimes used in Morocco when meeting his CIA contact. He didn’t have to try hard at the moment to come off like a street person. Lulu was right, he looked pretty shabby.
    He glanced past the elegant call girl as the door opened for her—someone had seen her through the peep hole.
    “Evenin’, Honker,” she told the bouncer.
    Honker was the bulkiest thug in a tuxedo that Wolfe had ever seen—and he’d seen