“I could buy more dope on the whole lot from Dinah Brand. But there’s no use taking anybody into court, no matter what you’ve got on them. They own the courts, and, besides, the courts are too slow for us now. I’ve got myself tangled up in something and as soon as the Old Man smells it⁠—and San Francisco isn’t far enough away to fool his nose⁠—he’s going to be sitting on the wire, asking for explanations. I’ve got to have results to hide the details under. So evidence won’t do. What we’ve got to have is dynamite.”

“What about our respected client, Mr. Elihu Willsson?” Mickey asked. “What are you planning to do with or to him?”

“Maybe ruin him, maybe club him into backing us up. I don’t care which. You’d better stay at the Hotel Person, Mickey, and Dick can go to the National. Keep apart, and, if you want to keep me from being fired, burn the job up before the Old Man tumbles. Better write these down.”