“He’s plumb bats,” Murphy said.

“Let’s ship ’im to the psycho,” Johnson said.

“Naw, naw,” Lawson said. “He’s playing a game and I wish to God I knew what it was . . .”

He sensed their uncertainty and felt that he could not make them understand.

“I’m guilty, mister! I saw it all,” he told them with nervous excitement. He rose from the chair, shaking with hysteria. “And I saw the man when he blew his brains out because you accused him of stealing that money . . . But he didn’t steal it. I took it . . . And I saw you slapping the night watchman trying to make ’im tell about them diamonds and rings and watches . . .”

Tigerishly Lawson grabbed his collar and lifted him bodily from the chair.

“Who told you about that?”

“Look, now, Lawson,” Johnson said. “Don’t get excited. He read about it in the papers. This ain’t the first loony to confess to something he didn’t do. You burned his confession. Nobody’ll believe anything he’d say. Dump ’im in the psycho. There’ll be no back-fire. He’s off his nut.”

“You say he saw it in the newspapers,” Lawson said. “Hell, he couldn’t! It wasn’t printed!” Lawson pulled forth from his pocket a batch of papers. “I haven’t turned in the report.”

“Then how did he find out about the bookkeeper?” Murphy asked.

“Get your coats on,” Lawson said with resolution.

“Where’re we taking ’im?” Murphy asked.

“Come on, I tell you!” Lawson shouted with ragged nerves. This lunatic will queer everything.” He turned to the chair as Murphy and Johnson hastily put on their caps and coats and buttoned their guns and cartridge belts about their hips. “Listen, boy, we’re going to take you to a good, quiet place where you’ll be all right, see? We’re going to take care of you, so don’t worry . . .”

“Yes, sir. And I’ll show you the underground,” he told them as he stood eagerly.

“Goddamn!” Lawson muttered as he put on his coat and cap. He buttoned his gun at his side and narrowed his eyes at Johnson and Murphy. “Listen,” he said in a voice just above a whisper, “say nothing to nobody, you hear?”

“Sure,” Johnson said.

“Okay,” Murphy said.

Lawson opened the door and Murphy and Johnson caught hold of his arms and led him out of the room and down the stairs. The hallway was crowded with policemen.

“What did he do, Lawson?” a policeman yelled.

“He’s nuts, ain’t he, Lawson?” another yelled.

Lawson did not answer; Johnson and Murphy marched him to the car parked at the curb, pushed him into the back seat. Lawson got behind the steering wheel and the car started forward.

“What’s up, Lawson?” Murphy asked.

“Listen,” Lawson began, “we told the papers that he confessed to the Peabody job, then he escapes. The Wop is caught and we tell the papers that we steered them wrong to trap the real guy, see? Now, this sonofabitch shows up and acts loco. If he goes around squealing about that Peabody job, people’ll say we framed ’im, see?”