He pushed the phone aside and played a tune on the row of pearl buttons on his desk. The office filled up with coppers.

“Cedar Hill Inn,” he said. “You follow me out with your detail, Bates. Terry, shoot out Broadway and hit the dump from behind. Pick up the boys on traffic duty as you go along. It’s likely we’ll need everybody we can get. Duffy, take yours out Union Street and around by the old mine road. McGraw will hold headquarters down. Get hold of everybody you can and send them after us. Jump!”

He grabbed his hat and went after them, calling over his thick shoulder to me:

“Come on, man, this is the kill.”

I followed him down to the department garage, where the engines of half a dozen cars were roaring. The chief sat beside his driver. I sat in back with four detectives.