CHOW WINKLER, DETECTIVE 25
surel Tastes great.” Chow reached for more sauce to put over the sweetened pancakes, but instead he absent-mindedly picked up the vinegar and proceeded to pour it on lavishly.
The waiter raised his eyebrows, shrugged expressively, and moved away.
The man in dark glasses and his two companions were now dabbing their lips with napkins as if about to leave. In desperation, Chow got up and headed toward the suspect’s table, intending to walk boldly past for a close look. But as he approached, the man suddenly turned around to speak to someone at the table behind him. The Texan could see little more than the back of the man’s head.
“I should’ve stayed put,” thought Chow. “Could’ve seen him perfect.”
Fuming, he returned to his own table, then saw that the suspect was now facing his dinner companions.
“Make up your mind, buster!” Chow steamed.
Once more, Chow started toward his quarry’s table. Several diners looked annoyed as the pudgy, bowlegged cowpoke maneuvered his bay window past their chairs for the third time. Again, as Chow approached, the mustached man turned around to resume chatting with the person behind him!
Chow’s face was now perspiring furiously. The man’s companions-one a woman, the other a burly, fat-faced fellow-stared up at him.
26 AQUATOMIC TRACKER
“You looking for someone, friend?” the burly man asked in a needling voice.
“Mebbe I am an’ mebbe I ain’t,” Chow snarled. He walked slowly past, peering back over his shoulder in hope that the mustached man would turn around again.