He heard McDermott say, “Them others, they got away. The two that we bumped, one of them was still alive when we reached him. We put some questions to him and he wouldn’t open up. Not at first, anyway. So then I hadda lit cigarette and used two fingers to open up his eye and keep it open. I bring the cigarette close to his eye and then closer and a little closer and he says he’ll spill. I say to him, ‘Who were you going after?’ And he says, ‘Corey Bradford.’ Then I say to him, ‘How come?’ He says, ‘This Bradford, he’s been giving us grief. He’s been finding out too much and we know it was him who knocked off Macy and Lattimore.’ I say, ‘You know that Bradford’s a policeman? You know he’s on the Night Squad?’ And the man says, ‘If he is, he’s on two payrolls.’ I say, ‘Whaddya mean, two payrolls?’ The man says, ‘From the City and from Grogan. This Bradford, he works for Walter Grogan.’ Then just as I start the next question, the man’s eyes bulge and he’s gone.”

Corey moved very slowly toward a chair and sat down and gazed at the floor.

“Well?” McDermott smiled dimly.

“Nothing,” Corey said. “All this tells me nothing.”

“You weren’t there tonight? You weren’t in them swamplands?”

“Of course not.”

“You don’t work for Grogan?”

“Of course not,” Corey said. He got up from the chair.

McDermott frowned down at the desk top. Then he looked at Corey and opened his mouth to say something. But Donofrio came up from the floor, pushing Heeley and the other squadmen from his path. On McDermott’s desk there was a pair of scissors and Donofrio grabbed it and held it with the blades closed. He’s gotta be kidding, Corey thought. But then Donofrio moved in.

“I’ll get it out of you,” Donofrio wheezed. “I’ll carve it out of you,” and the scissors came close, causing Corey’s arm to function mechanically while he sidestepped. The motion of his arm was just a blur and almost in that same split second he displayed the gun.

The gun meant nothing to Donofrio. He kept coming, and Corey thought, you’re just gonna hafta shoot him. There ain’t no other way to stop him. At that moment McDermott lunged at the tall Italian, and with his left hand he grabbed Donofrio’s wrist, stopping the forward thrust of the scissors. His other hand, clenched and functioning like a piston, banged Donofrio’s jaw. He hit Donofrio six times on the jaw, but Donofrio wouldn’t let go of the scissors. McDermott let out a despairing moan, set himself and hit Donofrio high on the jaw. The Italian went across the room and collided with the wall. Then he was facedown on the floor, unconscious.