“Take this baby down cellar and let the wrecking crew work on him before you lock him up.”
MacSwain started a desperate plea, “Aw, chief!” but the copper took him away before he could get any farther.
Noonan stuck a cigar at me, tapped the document with another and asked:
“Where’s this broad?”
“In the City Hospital, dying. You’ll have the ’cuter get a stiff out of her? That one’s not so good legally—I framed it for effect. Another thing—I hear that Peak Murry and Whisper aren’t playmates any more. Wasn’t Murry one of his alibis?”
The chief said, “He was,” picked up one of his phones, said, “McGraw,” and then: “Get hold of Peak Murry and ask him to drop in. And have Tony Agosti picked up for that knife-throwing.”