“We always like to know who’s staying in the game, daddy. Somebody around this place has a couple of bullets, back to back.”
The lanky officer sighed. He picked up a glass paperweight, turned it in bony fingers, gazed into it pensively.
“I guess I’ll have to put it to you straight, then.”
“A novelty,” the Saint said, “from the law. You’re going to say that Mrs Verity was loaded down with moola.”
“An’ might have been shaken down for some of it. Your crystal ball’s workin’ almost as good as mine, son...”
The Saint looked out into space, poising puppets with a brown hand.
“If you’ll just concentrate... concentrate... I may be able to do more — I have it!” He might have expected to get his palm crossed with a silver dollar. “My record leads you to suspect me of a slight tendency towards—”
“Bein’ interested in other folks’ money.”
“Your confidence touches me.”
“That ain’t all that may be touchin’ you soon, son.”