As he moved to the door she asked curiously, “You think this man McKay is innocent?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “Everybody has his own troubles, I guess.”

* * *

Lowry found Brady at headquarters. The latter was in an uncommonly good mood when Lowry came upon him in the detectives’ room.

“You must have been catching up on your sleep lately, Brady,” Lowry said. “You look like a contented cat or something.”

“Sit down, Lonelyhearts,” Brady said. “Things are just sort of quiet around here for a change. Can’t say that I mind it, either, this way. It kind of gives a guy a chance to breathe.”

“You mean nobody’s up there hollering ‘get that man’ because you just got one, eh?”

“Something like that.”

“I figured that was what you were grinning about. You’re pretty damn proud of yourself, I’ll bet.”

“You still don’t think McKay’s the man, do you, Lowry?”

“Less than ever.”

Brady wasn’t impressed by Lowry’s statement. He leaned back and yawned extravagantly.

“Seriously, Brady,” Lowry said. “Would you give McKay just the thousandth part of a break if it were possible?”

Brady’s rugged jaw came forward like an advancing army tank.

“Take a tip from me, Lowry. It’s finished. Forget all about it.”

“I’m not asking for tips. Would you give him a break if it were possible? Or are you so anxious to send somebody to the gas chamber for the Blair murder that you don’t give a hoot in hell whether the man you send is the right one or not?”

Brady’s eyes grew cold. “I think he’s the right man or I wouldn’t have pulled him in.”

“Sure, you think he is. But do you know? Do you want his death on your conscience forever?”

Brady scowled. “Listen, Lowry, don’t come in here to heckle me. What is it you want?”

“Tell me, have you checked all of Doris Blair’s boyfriends?”

“Yeah,” Brady said. “Including McKay.”

“Where did she go with those guys?”

Brady shrugged. “You try to dig that out, Lowry. What the devil do you think hotel registers tell, anyway?”

“Nothing.”

“Exactly.”

“Carrol wouldn’t have had to go to hotels with her,” Lowry said.

“Carrol wouldn’t have had to go anyplace with her. McKay was doing the going during the period we’re interested in.”

“A nice sugar daddy McKay was. Rolling in wealth. Driving around in a new Cadillac every Monday. Just the sort to keep Doris the way she wanted to be kept, eh, Brady?”

“He didn’t need money,” Brady said. “It must have been love. They sat in cars and looked at the moon.”

“But before you pulled McKay in you had been checking hotels and apartments.”

Brady bit off the end of a cigar. He lit it slowly and took several deep puffs, allowing the columnist to wait impatiently.