not so angular, was busy straightening his scarlet tie, smoothing his yellow hair. A thin-faced man of thirty with little or no chin under a wide loose mouth wandered up and down the room looking bored and humming “ Rosy Cheeks .”
I sat in a chair two or three feet from Thaler’s.
“How long is Noonan going to keep this up?” he asked. There was no emotion in his hoarse whispering voice, only a shade of annoyance.
“He’s after you this trip,” I said. “I think he’s going through with it.”
The gambler smiled a thin, contemptuous smile.
“He ought to know what a swell chance he’s got of hanging a one-legged rap like that on me.”
“He’s not figuring on proving anything in court,” I said.
“No?”
“You’re to be knocked off resisting arrest, or trying to make a getaway. He won’t need much of a case after that.”
“He’s getting tough in his old age.” The thin lips curved in another smile. He didn’t seem to think much of the fat chief’s deadliness. “Any time he rubs me out I deserve rubbing. What’s he got against you?”
“He’s guessed I’m going to make a nuisance of myself.”
“Too bad. Dinah told me you were a pretty good guy, except kind of Scotch with the roll.”
“I had a nice visit. Will you tell me what you know about Donald Willsson’s killing?”
“His wife plugged him.”