After I was handed the drink, plus a food menu, I took a sip and considered my options. I could finish the drink quickly, pay my bill, and drive back to Cambridge. Tomorrow was Friday, and if Joan was right, her husband and Pam would find an empty house for some afternoon delight, and I’d be there to witness it. Case closed. Or I could stick around and wait for Pam to arrive. She’d probably already be a little tipsy from after-work drinks at the Ninety Nine, and she’d probably drink plenty here at the bar, especially since she’d told me she always came here on Thursdays. And if she drank enough then how hard would it be to get her to confess to having an affair with her boss? And that would be enough for Joan, wouldn’t it? She just wanted confirmation, not any actual photographic proof. At least that was the impression I’d gotten.
But there were two problems with staying at the Hong Kong cocktail lounge. The first was that spending more time with Pam made it harder to keep an eye on her comings and goings from the Blackburn offices. Even though I was primarily following Richard, if he were to meet up with Pam tomorrow afternoon, then I’d be following both of them. The other problem was that if I didn’t get Pam to confess to an affair with Richard, she might become suspicious of my questions. She’d be on guard if she was having a clandestine affair with her married boss. And maybe she’d even let Richard know that some stranger—a man who’d also been outside of the Ninety Nine—was asking questions about her love life.
Pondering what to do next I noticed my drink was finished. Pete raised an eyebrow at me, and I told him I was thinking. Two couples entered together, led by the hostess to a high-top table that had been reserved. The lights were dimmed a little, and the music—1960s exotica—was turned up. A platter was delivered to a foursome at the other end of the bar, a blue flame in the middle of the food. I decided to stay. But I also decided I would not ask Pam any obvious questions about who she was, or was not, sleeping with. If it came naturally, then I’d see if I could get some information.
I called Pete over and asked him if he could make me a nonalcoholic beverage.
“Sure,” he said. “I make a virgin pi?a colada that’s better than most ones with alcohol.”
“I’ll take it,” I said. I didn’t know how long it would be before Pam showed up, and I needed to pace myself.
As it was, I only had to wait about an hour.
She came in alone, which was surprising, since I figured she’d bring other Blackburn employees with her. I’d even wondered if maybe Richard Whalen would show up, although I suppose I was hoping he wouldn’t. Pam stood in the doorway, yellow light from the bar illuminating her pale coat but leaving her face in shadow so that I couldn’t tell where she was looking. But then she was waving and moving through the crowded bar area. I swiveled to greet her, and she kissed me on the cheek. She smelled of white wine and French fries.
I stood up to offer her my stool but the couple next to me offered to move down so that we could each have a seat. Pam shucked her jacket and hung it on the hook under the lip of the bar. “Oh, I’m so glad to be here,” she said. “Real drinks, real food.”
“I thought you’d show up with a huge crew from your office,” I said.
“They’re all still at the Ninety Nine, but I couldn’t take it anymore. My guess is Janey, who you know, plus maybe a couple of the other agents will show up later.”
Pete had spotted Pam and come over, reaching out a fist that Pam bumped with her own over the bar. “Make me that thing with all the basil leaves that you made me a week ago, please, Pete?”
“Oh, sure,” he said, then looked at me. “Same again?”
“No, I’ll have what she’s having,” I said.
He departed and Pam took a deep breath, said something about Thursdays I couldn’t quite make out over the din in the bar, then smiled widely at me. She had fresh lipstick on.
“How’s your week been, Henry Dickey?” she said.
“You remembered my name.”
“I did. I even googled you, but nothing came up.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said. “I’d just as soon have no online presence.”
“Well, you’ve succeeded. You’re a mystery man.”
Our drinks arrived, and Pam asked if I wanted to order some food, and together we looked at the menu, deciding on a few appetizers. I was sorely regretting all the chicken wings I’d eaten earlier.
“So were you googling me for your friend?” I said, after we ordered.
She looked confused, and I said, “For Janey. I got the feeling on Tuesday you were trying to set us up.”
“Oh, right,” Pam said. “No, now that I know you an infinitesimal amount”—she held up her thumb and forefinger so that they were almost touching—“I’m not sure you’re a good match for Janey.”
“Probably not,” I said.
“So who are you a good match for?” Pam said.
I took a tiny sip of my delicious drink. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe no one. My sister says that I fall in love too often to get married, whatever that means.”
“Oh, you’re one of those,” Pam said.
“One of what?”
“A serial monogamist.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I don’t think it’s bad, but it is what it is. You have one intense relationship after another but they never quite reach the marriage stage, right?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“I think it’s fine. Honestly, what do I know? I used to have all sorts of ideas about what kind of relationship I wanted to have when I got married, and I was also really judgmental about other people’s relationships. My parents. My friends. Now that I’m older and I’ve been through the ringer a couple of times I don’t judge so much.”
“I like that you call yourself older. You’re still in your twenties I’m guessing?”
“Thank you but no. I’m actually thirty-two.”
“Well, you don’t look it.”
“Thanks for that, but I feel it. I feel old, and I feel alone.”
“If I recall correctly,” I said, “you mentioned something about being in a relationship. Last time we were sitting at this bar.”
“Oh, did I? I probably also mentioned that it wasn’t making anyone happy, so there’s that. I’m hoping to extricate myself from that ASAP. Pete, look this way, will you?” She was holding up her empty glass.
“Well, I’m here if you want to unburden yourself of the details.”
“I would but then you’d lose all respect for me.”
“Okay,” I said, and decided to drop it, finishing my own drink.
Pam managed to wave down Pete and we ordered new drinks just as our food arrived. Before we were finished eating, Pam said something too quiet for me to catch, but she was looking at the entrance, so I did, as well. Janey, with three other women, and one man, was standing with the hostess looking around the bar.
“It’s your crew,” I said.
“I know, and I’m kind of hoping they don’t look this way. Is that terrible?”
“We need to protect our food.”