Your name is Davies; I decided on
that in case I suffer a _lapsus linguae_ and call you Dave in front of
somebody."
"Yeah. I'll have to watch and not call you Jeff, Colonel Rand, sir." He
nodded toward the glove-box. "That Leech & Rigdon's in there; you'd
better get it out before I go to the Flemings'. The guy at the drive-in
made a positive identification; it's the one he sold Fleming. I saw the
rest of the pistols he has there; don't waste time looking him up about
them. They stink. And I saw Tip this morning. He got young Jarrett sprung
on a writ." He thought for a moment. "What does this do to the Rivers and
Fleming murders?"
"We can look for one man for both jobs, now," Rand said. "Probably the
motive for Fleming was that merger he was so violently opposed to, and
the Rivers killing must have been a security measure of some sort. There;
that must be Gwinnett's, now."
The State Police car had pulled up in front of a large three-story frame
house with faded and discolored paint and jigsaw scrollwork around the
cornices, standing among a clump of trees beside the road. McKenna and
Kavaalen got out, with Walters between them, and started up the path to
the front steps. Ritter stopped behind the white sedan, and he and Rand
got out.
Pages:
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254