“Don’t call me girlie, you son of a bitch!”
Kells looked at Granquist, shook his head sadly. “That’s something you forgot to tell me about,” he said.
“I want all the pictures,” the fat man repeated, “an’ I want two letters — quick.”
Granquist was staring at the fat man. She turned slowly to Kells. “That’s a lie, Gerry. I didn’t crack to Bellmann.”
Fenner stood up. “I won’t stand for this,” he said. He thrust his hands in his pockets and took a step forward.
“Sit down.” The fat man moved the revolver slightly until it focused on Fenner’s stomach.
Fenner stood still.
Kells said: “Does the fella who sent you know that if anything happens Jo me the whole inside gets a swell spread in the morning papers?”
The fat man smiled.
“The inside on Haardt and the barge and Perry, and the Sunday-school picnic at Big Bear?” Kells went on.