“Yeah, she had it this morning. Between you and me, she’s well rid of that specimen. He was a petty grafter, had his hand stuck in everybody’s pocket. He owed gambling money, too. If he’d been a starter they’d of had him fixing games.”

“You figure one of his creditors got tired of waiting and ran him over?”

“I don’t figure anything for your consumption. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, quit fooling around with crime. You’ll only get hurt. Leave that—”

“—to the police. They’re paid to handle it.” I finished with him in chorus. “Make it more like a million times, Bobby. Thanks. Give my love to Eileen,” I added as he hung up on me.

Next I tried Murray Ryerson. He wasn’t at the Star but I found him at home, just staggering out of bed.

“V. I. who?” he grumbled. “It’s only eleven in the morning.”

“Wake up, sunshine. I want to talk to you.”

“Vic, if you knew how long I’ve waited to hear those words from you. My mother keeps telling me, ‘No, she’s just using you, Murray. She just wants to worm crime information out of you.’ But deep down, I keep believing, in my secret heart, that one day my warmest passions will be reciprocated.”

“Murray, your warmest passion, next to beer, is for a hot story. I guess I reciprocate that. Why don’t you come up and watch the poor old Cubbies take on the winningest team in baseball and I’ll give you an exclusive on the wreck of the Lucella.”

“What do you know about that?” he asked sharply.

“I was there. I was an eyewitness. I watched the whole thing happen. I may even have seen the man—or woman—who planted the depth charges.”

“My God, Vic, I don’t believe it. I don’t believe you’re calling me out of the blue like this. Who was it? Where did you see them? Was it up at the locks? Is this on the level?”

“Certainly,” I said virtuously. “Have we got a date?”

“Let me get Mike Silchuck up there with his camera to get a shot of you. Now, let’s start at the beginning. Why were you on the Lucella?”

“Are you going to come to the game with me or not?”

“Oh, all right. But it’s no joy for me to watch Atlanta massacre our faithful boys in blue.”

He agreed to meet me at the bleachers at twelve forty-five. Right before he hung up he said, “What do you want from me, Vic? Why the elaborate setup?”

“See you at the game, Murray.” I laughed and hung up.

Before leaving the park I tried Phillips again. Jeannine answered.

“Hello, Mrs. Phillips. This is V. I. Warshawski. I’m a business associate of your husband’s. May I speak to him, please?”