Shane followed him out of the room that smelled of ether and of death; they went down a long corridor to an elevator.
On the third floor they left the elevator and crossed the hall diagonally to the open door of a large office, went in. A tall, paunched man with a bony, purplish face turned from the window, went to a swivel chair behind the broad desk and sat down.
He said: “How come you stopped by tonight, Dick?” He leaned back, squinted across the desk at Shane.
Shane shrugged, sat down sidewise on the edge of the desk. “Wanted to say hello to all my buddies.”
“You’re a damned liar!” The tall man spoke quietly, impersonally. “A couple of my men were on the way over to pick you up when you showed up, here. You were tipped, an’ I want to know who it was — it don’t make so much difference about you, but that kind of thing is bad for the department.”
Shane was smiling at Gill. He turned his head to look down at the tall man silently. Finally he said: “What are you going to do, Ed — hold me?”
The tall man said: “Who tipped you to the pinch?”
Shane stood up, faced the tall man squarely. He said: “So it’s a pinch?” He turned and started towards the door, spoke over his shoulder to Gill: “Come on, Sarge.”
“Come here, you bastard!”
Shane turned. His expression was not pleasant. He took two short, slow steps back towards the desk.