"
"You want to stick around till this clerk of Rivers's gets here?" McKenna
asked. "He should be here in about an hour and a half."
"No. I'd just as soon not be seen taking too much of an interest in this
right now. Fact is, I'd just as soon not have my name mentioned at all in
connection with this. You can charge the discovery of the body up to our
old friend, Anonymous Tip, can't you?"
"Sure." McKenna accompanied Rand to the front door, past the white
chalked outline that marked the original position of the body. The body
itself, with ink-blackened fingertips, lay to one side, out of the way.
Corporal Kavaalen was going through the dead man's pockets, and Skinner
was working on the rifle with an insufflator.
"Well, we can't say it was robbery, anyhow," Kavaalen said. "He had eight
C's in his billfold."
"Migawd, Sarge, is this damn rifle ever lousy with prints," Skinner
complained. "A lot of Rivers's, and everybody else's who's been fooling
with it around here, and half the _Wehrmacht_."
"Swell, swell!" McKenna enthused. "Maybe we can pass the case off on the
War Crimes Commission."
CHAPTER 11
Mick McKenna had put his finger right on the sore spot. It did hurt
Rand like hell; a nice, sensational murder and no money in it for the
Tri-State Agency.
Pages:
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151