Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

The taxi driver said: "Miss, there is no problem. Don't worry, no one is following you now." Della sat in the seat next to the driver, watching the situation behind through the rear-view mirror, while paying attention to the road ahead."I think it should be all right now," she said. "Where are you going?" the taxi driver asked. "Union Terminal." The taxi turned a corner, and the driver glanced at Della and asked, "What's your problem—your husband?" Della nodded. The taxi driver said in a slightly emotional tone: "A man should be very grateful to be able to marry a girl like you. If he starts to treat you badly, someone should take care of you." Teach him a lesson."

Della said, "Maybe . . . it's partly my fault." "Your fault?" the driver said in surprise. "Why are you like this? I've been driving a taxi for so many years, and I can't read people wrong. If someone doesn't get along with you, it must be his own problem." "Thank you," Della said seriously. The taxi driver moved on his seat, puffed up his chest, and said, "Miss, as soon as you arrive at the station, get out of the car and go about your business. If someone is waiting for you there and wants to talk to you, I will will help you out."

"Oh, that's not going to happen," Della said hastily. "There's no trouble now; I know he won't be there, and won't know where I'm going." The driver said, "Well... if you're worried about whether he's following us, you can rest assured that we're not out." "I mean exactly that." The driver smiled and said: "If anyone wants to follow us, he will be lying in the hospital by now. People like us who drive all day long can be familiar with it and take it in and out; bah! Those guys who can't see the sun, I only drive once a week, and if you want to compete with me, there is no way."

"Yeah, I think so too," Della said. The taxi moved forward steadily, and the driver was silent for a while.When the car gradually approached the Union Terminal, he said: "Miss, I will give you a business card; if you want to go somewhere in the future, if you don't want to be followed, please contact me. Usually, you can come this afternoon. Find me where you hail my car, that's where I stop." "Thank you." "And remember, if I'm there, no one will dare to provoke you." "you are nice." Della paid the fare, tipped another quarter, smiled at him, and walked away.

The driver's eyes were a little blank as he watched Della pass the station entrance.When a car behind him honked urgently, he suddenly returned to the real world and noticed the traffic situation in front of him. Della spots Carlo standing near the phone booth. "Hi, hello," Carlo said with a smile, extending his hand enthusiastically. "Mr. Mason told me on the phone that you were coming here to pick me up." Della nodded and said, "He gave me some very specific instructions." "He mentioned it to me." "He thinks it's important that you do what he says and do what he says."

"Of course," Carlo said with a smile. "Wouldn't I be a fool if I paid a lawyer to tell me what to do and ignored his advice?" "Where is your father now?" Della asked. Carlo frowned and said, "I wish I knew, I've been calling him, but I can't get through." "Is he going to talk to Frank Palermore at Skinner Hill on Friday afternoon?" "Friday afternoon?" "yes." "No, of course he didn't. There was a political meeting at the Surf and Sun motel that day, don't you remember?" Della said firmly: "Okay, you have to come with me—and, you can't participate in any public activities at present, this is what my boss told me."

"Would you keep me out of contact with journalists?" "I didn't ask him that question," Della said with a smile. "A sensible person would not ask him, you should know." "Yes, I can understand that Mr. Mason might be quite impatient if someone interrupted his rapid mental process and asked him why he did this and why he did that. Well, let's go." "I think we'd better take a cab," Della said. They walked to the taxi hailing area. Carlo said: "I think I should put on my coat and gloves, the westerly wind is blowing again in the afternoon. It was quite warm about half an hour ago."

"I'll help you with your purse," Della suggested. Carlo put on his coat, opened his purse, and took out a pair of gloves.As she did so, a card fell out of her purse and onto the floor. Della looked at Carlo with an inquiring look, and found that there was no strange expression on her face.Obviously, she didn't notice the card that fell out. Della turned, and a smiling man stepped forward to pick up the card; he took off his hat and handed the card to Della.Della smiled back at him. Carlo turned around and looked at Della curiously.With an idea, Della stuffed the card into her coat pocket.When they reached the taxi hailing area, Della pulled the card out of her pocket again and checked it quickly.

It turned out to be a pick-up card - the credential used when picking up the package claim area at the station. Della said suddenly, "Wait a minute, Miss Burbank. I have something to call my boss, and you don't mind waiting for me?" "Of course not, I'll go with you to the phone booth." "Oh, don't bother. I'll be right back..." "No, no, I'll go with you." "You didn't want to take anything at the station, did you?" "No." "No luggage or anything?" "My God! No. I came here just now because it's an easy place to call and get a taxi. These days, when you want to take a taxi, it's hard to hail an empty one. .”

Della said, "Yes, I understand the situation. A few days ago, I waited so long for a taxi that I missed my appointment with the beautician. Miss Burbank, sorry, please wait a moment." Della entered a phone booth and asked Carlo to wait outside. She dialed the number of the unregistered phone on the desk in Mason's office and heard Mason's voice.He asked cautiously, "Hey, who are you?" "Della." "Hi, Della. Are you all right?" "Yes, I am fine." "Not being followed?" "No." "sure?" "Yes, I'm sure."

"Have you found Carlo?" "yes." "Are you at the hotel now?" "No, we're still at the station. Boss, when she opened her purse to get her gloves just now, she dropped a pick-up card, which was issued by the parcel depository here. She must have deposited it in the last one or two hours. What packages, luggage, things like that..." "Where is the current whereabouts of the withdrawal card?" "In my hand." "Does she know?" "No, she didn't know she had lost it!" "Well, do you have an envelope in your purse?" "Have." "Write my name on the envelope and put the pick-up card in it. When you get to the hotel, put the envelope on the table, I'll get it, and then pick up the package and see what's in it. What. Can you hear me?" "Yes, it's clear." "Okay, take care." "I will. Goodbye, boss." "Goodbye, Della." Della hung up and turned around in the booth so that her shoulders covered the following: She took an envelope from her purse, wrote Mason's name and the address of the firm, and put the card Stuff it in an envelope. She came out to meet Carlo, and they walked back to the taxi hailing area.An empty car drove up and they went in. "Where to?" asked the man in charge of starting the car. Della said, "We're going together, the two of us, to the Woodridge Hotel." "Sorry, now, we can't just carry two passengers in a taxi, you have to... sir, where are you going?" A man's voice said, "I'm going to Eleventh Street - Figuelua." "Okay, come in," the starter said, and then instructed the driver. "Jack, take these two ladies to the Woodridge Hotel, and drive this gentleman to Eleventh Street Figuelua. Excuse me, do you have any luggage?" None of the three of them appeared to have luggage. The man seemed to have been paying attention to the two ladies who were traveling with him from the very beginning, but after the taxi had walked two blocks, he tentatively said, "The weather has suddenly turned cold, hasn't it?" Carlo smiled and said, "Yeah, but, as is expected at this time of year, it seems a bit early for the season to officially move into warmer weather." "There are very few taxis," said the man. "Yes, it was hard to hail one." "Are you two from San Francisco?" he said with a smile. Carlo glanced at Della, and Della smiled at the man—a slightly cryptic smile.Then she said simply, "No, but I've been there." The man said: "I live there and it's a really nice place. I have to come here once in a while for business, but every time I get here I just keep wanting to go back soon. It's full of people San Francisco is truly a city.” "Be careful," Carlo warned. "People who say that kind of thing here are not welcome, and they will even be beaten!" "I can't help but say this, I think San Francisco...by the way, don't you two live in Los Angeles?" Carlo looked at Della again, hoping that she would answer the question. Della smiled and said, "What's the matter? If we are locals, are you embarrassed to express your personal feelings?" "Well, of course—I don't want to appear impolite." "Oh, I believe that the residents of Los Angeles are used to hearing San Francisco criticize Los Angeles in a contemptuous tone. But, isn't there a lot more sunshine here than San Francisco? Isn't the fog there often heavy?" "Fog," said the man. “That’s what’s so special about San Francisco. When that mist floats in from the sea, you feel so good and refreshed, it can make you feel refreshed and refreshed. San Francisco has a lot of buzz and activity; but here People, however, seem to be suffering from hookworm disease, wriggling sickly. Don't you two ladies live here?" "What makes you think otherwise?" Della said. "It's classy—you're full of energy and good looks." "I thought Hollywood was known for beautiful women." "Oh, I suppose so. But they tend to be affected and not innocent; you two are cosmopolitan people, and behave quite differently from what they appear here, and you don't dress conventionally, and you There is a kind of... there is a kind of..." "The sophistication of the city." Carlo then finished his sentence. The man said with some enthusiasm, "Yes, that's it." Both Della and Carlo laughed; it was a moment before the man laughed with them, somewhat reluctantly. "I was just joking," he said. "You guys are fooling me." The taxi drove to the door of the Woodridge Hotel. The man said regretfully: "It's a pity that your hotel is not near Figuelua. Okay, goodbye." The two of them smiled at him, and after paying the fare, Della walked in front and led Carlo Enter the hotel. "Good afternoon," said the waiter, turning the shelf containing the registration cards to Della. Della picked up the pen and said in a low voice, "I'm from Mr. Mason's office, I..." "Oh, yes, I have arranged all the rooms you have booked. Are you Miss Streeter?" "yes." After Della registered, she asked Carlo again: "I'll help you register too; by the way, what's your middle name?" "Edith. But I rarely use it." "It's okay," Della said.Then she wrote the name C. E. Burbank on the register. The waiter patted the announcement bell on the counter with his palm. Della took out the envelope with the recipient's name on it from her purse, put it on the counter, and said, "This is a message to Mr. Mason, can you please..." "I'd be happy to help. Will he come and get it himself? Or do you want him to send someone to sign for it? We..." A man who had just entered the hotel lobby quickly walked to the counter and cleared his throat cautiously. The waiter stopped in the middle of his speech. He looked at the man behind Della and said, "Please wait a moment, I am greeting these two ladies. Brother, take them to rooms 624 and 626." Do you want to open the bathroom in the middle of the two rooms, and then..." "Wait a minute," the man interrupted. Della didn't like the way the man spoke, and she turned away worried.The man pulled open the top lapel of his coat, and she saw a golden shield with a number, emblem, and letter on it.He was the same strange man who had raved about how good San Francisco was, but now he was neither kind nor friendly, and he was a completely different person.Gently pushing Della aside, he reached out with a large hand and seized the envelope which the waiter was holding dumbfounded. Della said angrily, "Could you please explain this move?" His eyes were ruthless and wary.Then he said in a tone of offensive authority: "You two must go to the police headquarters. The taxi you just took is waiting outside." He turned to another plainclothes policeman who was behind him. : "Mark, look at them. Let me see what's in this envelope." As Mark moved closer, the first policeman pulled the pick-up card from the envelope and gave Mark a quick look, holding it at an angle that Carlo couldn't see what it was. "Okay, Mark, I'll keep it. You take them to Headquarters, and we'll meet there." Carlo said firmly: "I don't think you know who I am? You can't treat me like this." The man who had been amiable a few minutes ago was now looking at her with serious authority. "Miss Burbank, stop kidding yourself. How come we don't know who you are? That's why we do it because we know who you are. Come on, get in a taxi. Or, would you rather take a police car?" ?” When Carlo shrank back, the man asked again. "I'm going to call my lawyer," Della declared sternly. "Of course, of course." The man said in a soothing tone. "But you can't call here. You don't want the whole hotel building to know about you? Go! There's a phone at Police Headquarters; once you're there, call as long as you want." "I'm going to call him now," Della said, walking to the phone booth. "And, even if everyone knew about me, I wouldn't care." The officer grabbed Della by the arm and pulled her back, turning her around. "Well, if you don't eat your toast, you'll be punished," he said. "Then we'll have to get tough—and now we're going to formally arrest you."