"If YOU go, I go," I capitulated. "That's all there is to it."
Following the directions that Michael had given over the telephone
Craig led me into one of the toughest parts of the lower West Side.
"Here's the place," he announced, stopping across the street from a dingy Raines Law Hotel.
"Pretty tough," I objected. "Are you sure?"
"Quite," replied Kennedy, consulting his note book again.
"Well, I'll be hanged if I'll go in that joint," I persisted.
It had no effect on Kennedy. "Nonsense, Walter," he replied, crossing the street.
Reluctantly I followed and we entered the place.
"I want a room," asked Craig as we were accosted by the proprietor, comfortably clad in a loud checked suit and striped shirt sleeves. "I had one here once before—forty-nine, I think."
"Fifty—" I began to correct.