The insolent look in McKay’s bloodshot eyes seemed to deepen as his gaze roved from Hendricks to Brady and slowly back to Hendricks. Arms folded, Brady watched him impassively.

“All about what?” McKay asked.

Hendricks grunted disdainfully. Cracking his knuckles with elaborate precision, he said, “All right, McKay. You can stall if that’s what you like. But just remember what I told you. You’re only making it tougher on yourself. Did you know Doris Blair?” he asked, snapping the name out with sudden sharpness.

Understanding came to McKay with a shock. And then he was overwhelmed by a tremendous feeling that they could not possibly believe what they were leading up to. It was all some kind of joke, he thought. He laughed as if to share their good humor.

“Sure, I knew the poor kid,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“Just can the act, buster!” Hendricks barked angrily. “Poor kid, my left elbow! And you didn’t only know her, you batted around with her a lot—didn’t you, McKay? Answer me.”

“That’s a lie,” McKay said with deliberation.

Hendricks’ reaction was instantaneous. He slapped McKay’s cheek with his broad palm. McKay’s head snapped back sharply. His ears rang from the impact of the stinging blow.

Hendricks said levelly, “That’s just to show you that I’m particular about who calls me a liar, McKay. I don’t take crap from scum like you.”

McKay’s eyes filled with hatred.

“You’re nuts if you think you can mix me up in this,” he cried. “You’re just looking for somebody you can work off your stinking sadism on, that’s all. Whose idea was it to pick me up, anyway?”

Hendricks seemed about to slap him again. McKay tensed for the blow. Brady fidgeted as though slightly bored with the whole interrogation.

“It isn’t an idea, McKay,” Brady said tightly. “I was in Carrol’s last night and I heard you shooting your fool mouth off in there. There are a couple of things you’d better be able to explain.”

McKay moistened his lips nervously. Hendricks’ bluster had failed to frighten him, but there was something in the quiet, matter-of-fact manner in which Brady spoke that gave him a tight, knotty feeling in the pit of the stomach, something that told him he had cause for fear. Quiet menace was always more terrifying than noisy blustering. Memories of things he had heard, read, flashed through McKay’s mind.

“Well?” Hendricks said. “You going to cooperate with us, McKay?”

“If you want me to explain anything,” McKay said, “I’m going to want a lawyer, first.”

Hendricks snorted. “There. And a minute ago he was playing dumb.”

“You’ll get your lawyer,” Brady said. “And you’re going to need one bad, damn bad. But first you answer a few questions.”

“Why should I?”