"Yes."
"You buy meat from this butcher?"
Her hands twitched on her knees. Fink waited patiently for her to answer.
"You buy meat from this butcher?"
"Yes," Mrs. Dugan whispered.
"Any of it bad?"
"No."
Fink took out his notebook and scribbled. Lennox flexed his right arm against his chest, then looked around uneasily.
"Where's Dugan?" Fink inquired.
"He went up to the roof to look for leaks." The woman tapped her knee with a stained forefinger. "On account of the snow."