“What was it?” I was surprised at the fatherly tone I achieved. “What did you want to die for, Angel?”
Words that wanted to be said were shiny in her eyes, tugged at muscles in her face, shaped her lips—but that was all. The words she said came out listlessly, but with a reluctant sort of finality. They were:
“No. You’re law. I’m thief. I’m staying on my side of the fence. Nobody can say—”
“All right! All right!” I surrendered. “But for God’s sake don’t make me listen to another of those ethical arguments. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Thanks, no.”
“There’s nothing you want to tell me?”
She shook her head.
“You’re all right now?”
“Yes. I was being shadowed, wasn’t I? Or you wouldn’t have known about it so soon.”
“I’m a detective—I know everything. Be a good girl.”
From the hospital I went up to the Hall of Justice, to the police detective bureau. Lieutenant Duff was holding down the captain’s desk. I told him about the Angel’s dive.
“Got any idea what she was up to?” he wanted to know when I had finished.
“She’s too far off center to figure. I want her vagged.”
“Yeah? I thought you wanted her loose so you could catch her.”