He lighted another cigarette, and exhaled with judicious patience.
“All I’m interested in,” he said, “is how that gun happened to find its way into my apartment last night.”
Nelson seemed uncertain whether to explain or fight.
“Sure, I... I took the gun away from Grady, but how it got into the hands of a burglar I don’t know. I gave it back to Connie to give back to her father.” He turned to her. “You did return it to him, didn’t you, honey?”
She sat up, drying the teary dampness from her nose, and shook her head in silent negation.
Nelson stared at her.
“You didn’t?”
She stuffed her handkerchief away.
“I didn’t want him to have it!” she said vehemently. “He wasn’t safe with it. After what he did to you—”
“But—”