‘It was late when I got back to the office,’ he said. ‘All hell was breaking loose in the city. When I got back, I saw Inspector Rose. He told me that the men had turned themselves in as I ordered. And then Barstow came in and took them away. Rose couldn’t do anything about it. Barstow countermanded my order and took them away.’ Hanna suddenly sat down.

‘What are you going to do?’

He glared at me. ‘What do you expect me to do? Arrest Barstow?’

That was hardly likely. I said, ‘The police raided Gregory Plaza last night.’ I explained how I knew.

‘What can you do?’ said Hanna in despair. ‘No, tell me: what can I do? That son-of-a-bitch is playing politics. He’s taking the whole damned police force into the political arena. Did you see the Chronicle this morning?’

‘I saw it.’ I thought of something else. ‘Does Barstow know about Raymond White?’

‘I shouldn’t think so,’ said Hanna. ‘I have him in custody at a police station up in North End.’

‘He might know by now,’ I said. ‘Gerry Negrini knew last night. Mrs Salton was making no secret of it. She wanted to know why he’d been arrested.’

Hanna jerked upright. ‘She might even have asked Barstow. Where’s a telephone?’

Leotta pointed. ‘Over there.’

Hanna crossed the room and I settled down to think of the consequences of Barstow knowing what White had said. With the Chronicle coming out against Conyers quite openly, Barstow might reckon it a good move to make a snap arrest of Jill Salton so as to discredit the Chronicle and the Liberals. It would also take the heat off as far as the riots went. After all, they’d happened essentially because of the uncertainty about Salton’s death, so if it could be made to look like a squalid jealousy killing, then Conyers would be laughing.

No wonder Hanna wanted a telephone fast.

He came back. ‘It’s all right. White’s still there and no one from headquarters has asked any questions. I’ve given instructions that he be taken back to El Cerco. It’s time I had a talk with Mrs Salton.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I think so, too.’

‘Are you fit to travel?’

I looked at him in surprise. ‘You want me along?’

‘As I said, you’re a catalyst. You start reactions going.’

‘Not a catalyst,’ I said. ‘If you look at the proper definition, a catalyst comes out of a chemical reaction unchanged. I think I’ve changed a lot since I came to Campanilla.’

‘Never mind that,’ he said impatiently. ‘Can you come?’