Gertie Dish was quite one herself. Wrapped, no swaddled in fur from head to toe, she was spitting mad at Crazy Dan Cunningham for standing her up, especially in the oak-lined bar of the Algonquin Hotel, no less. From her girlish anger, no one would ever guess she was the most sentient of New York City’s private detectives, pretty much in a class of her own. (The rest of the boys, not within her earshot, grudgingly admitted as such.) She was also, “eezy on da peepers”, as Nate, a chum of the aforementioned, Dan, was given to say. And in that particular category, Nate’s personal allegiance notwithstanding, she was unquestionably, without peer.