I said, “I guess so—unless there was another bathroom between 618 and 616.”

Mrs. Cunweather called from the other room, “Let her go, William. We’ve got enough information to handle it ourselves.”

The chief said, “Well, Mrs. Cool, it’s been most delightful having you drop in. Do come again some time. I’ll remember you. I will for a fact—and don’t hold a grudge, Lam. After all, my boy, you were splendid, and your nose doesn’t look at all bad. I can see from the way you’re walking, your ribs are a bit sore, but you’ll get over it in another twenty-four hours. You—”

He waddled over and held the door open for us.

I walked past him out into the night. He followed me out to the porch. “Come, come, Lam,” he said. “Let’s shake hands.”

“Shake hands with him, Donald,” she said.

He pushed out his hand. It was like picking a chunk of cold oatmeal out of a pot. He looked in my eyes, and said, “You’re still sore, Lam.”

He dropped my hand. “Have it your own way,” he said, and waddled back into the house, slamming the door behind him.

Bertha Cool said, “He’s a customer, Donald. We can’t quarrel with customers.”

I didn’t say anything.

Chapter Nine

CHAPTER NINE

THE CAB driver was waiting for us. He held the door open. Bertha Cool said, “Stillwater Apartments,” and pulled herself into the cab. I followed, and said, as the cab driver closed the door, “Didn’t you want to go to see Sandra?”

“Not just yet,” she said.

The cab lurched into motion. I said, “I’ve got a wild idea.”

“How wild?” she asked.

“Awfully wild.”

“Let’s hear it, Donald.”

“A couple of things about this case are screwy. I have a hunch Cunweather is connected with this slot-machine business. He’s probably the higher-up. Morgan Birks was contact man. Morgan was given money for a pay-off, and now that information about the pay-off is commencing to come out before the grand jury, it appears that Morgan Birks was making a rake-off of his own. In other words, every time he told the ring they had to pay off a hundred dollars, the pay-off was really only fifty He was giving fifty to the cops, and salting fifty in a safety deposit box.”

“There’s nothing wild about that idea,” she said, groping around in her bag for a cigarette, “and nothing very original. It’s been done before—you’re probably right at that.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “I’m coming to something.”

She pulled out her cigarette, and said, “Go ahead and come to it.”