From Chapter One of The Quick Red Fox by John D. MacDonald:
Sometimes it does happen that way. She had a money look. No jewelry. Earned money. She looked handsomely employed, and she didn't look as if she was in any kind of a jam. An emissary for somebody who was. Had she come along a couple of months sooner, I could not have cared less. But the kitty was dwindling. I was soon going to have to cast about for some profitable little problem. It is nice when they come walking up and save you the trouble of looking.
But caution is always essential. "Are you sure you're talking to the right guy?"
"Walter Lowery in San Francisco mentioned your name."
"What do you know? How is old Walt?"
"All right, I expect." She frowned. "He said to say he misses playing chess with you."
So it was all right. Walt and I never played chess in our lives. Not against each other, at least. But that was the identification tag. If he ever sent anybody along. There are the nosy ones, and the troublemakers, and the cuties, and the official investigators. It is good to have a way to weed the doubtful ones out.
(For those interested in similar literary diversions, see also some Raymond Chandler chess quotes.)
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