KLEMPNER
I can't think straight. My work doesn't hold my interest. My concentration is blown.
An image of emerald-green eyes follows me.
What are you doing now?
I want to see her.
I want to see her. Not the pro, but her.
She's a whore. A professional. But still I want to see her.
It's ridiculous.
She's one of dozens....
Hundreds....
Mitch...
".... Finchby is asking if you can supply more exotics...." I tune back to the real world. Bech is looking at me oddly. "Sir?"
"Yes?" I snap. "What?"
"What do you think of that idea? Finchby is asking for Asians and Orientals. Both sexes and specifically the younger ones."
"Right...."
Get your mind back on it....
".... I may be able to arrange something, yes. I was planning trips next year to the Middle-East and around Rwanda. I could pull those forward."
Bech nods, pursing his lips as he jots a note. "Very good. Anything else?"