“Any line on Whisper?” I asked when we had finished the glad-handing.

“I think I’ve got something.” He looked at the clock on the wall and then at his phone. “I’m expecting word any minute. Sit down.”

“Who else got away?”

“Jerry Hooper and Tony Agosti are the only other ones still out. We picked up the rest. Jerry is Whisper’s man-Friday, and the wop’s one of his mob. He’s the bozo that put the knife in Ike Bush the night of the fight.”

“Any more of Whisper’s mob in?”

“No. We just had the three of them, except Buck Wallace, the fellow you potted. He’s in the hospital.”

The chief looked at the wall clock again, and at his watch. It was exactly two o’clock. He turned to the phone. It rang. He grabbed it, said:

“Noonan talking.⁠ ⁠… Yes.⁠ ⁠… Yes.⁠ ⁠… Yes.⁠ ⁠… Right.”