Fine Lines

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Anna and Marty were very obviously in love, and when I decided to end their relationship I knew I would need help. I had neither the skill nor the experience necessary to attempt such a task on my own.

Fortunately, I knew someone much better qualified.

Zeppo did not remember me when I telephoned, which was not altogether surprising. We had met, but only twice, and I am not the sort of man who makes a lasting impression. Zeppo, however, was quite the opposite.

I arranged to meet him in a restaurant just off the West End. He was late, and I was turning the waiter away for the second time when he finally arrived. I signalled to him and he strolled over, apparently unaware of the looks he received from the other diners. But he walked just a little too slowly and a little too deliberately to be entirely unconscious of them.

He greeted me pleasantly enough, but made no apology for his lateness. I chose not to mention it.

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