“Yessir, Mr. Weller had waited in the lobby until nine, then left with another gentleman. They were going to dinner. Would this be Mr. Pellam by any chance? “Yes. Did he leave a message for me?” Weller had. Pellam was to meet him at the Templeton Steak House at nine-thirty. An hour and a half ago. “Where is that?” According to the young man’s blithe directions, it was a half hour from Maddox. “I’m calling from a pay phone. You wouldn’t happen to have their number, would you?” “Well, I do. Were y...ou thinking of having the steak?” “What?” “I was wondering if you were going to eat there or if you were going to meet Mr. Weller. Because if you were going to meet Mr. Weller, he was leaving the restaurant at ten-thirty. He had an eleven o’clock flight out of Lambert Field.” “He’s checked out?” “That’s right. Believe he mentioned a trip to London.” Pellam sighed. “And the other gentleman? Mr. Telorian.” “I believe he was flying to Los Angeles tonight.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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