“Don’t believe him, Sean. He’s either mad or drunk!”
“You’d better be careful what you are saying,” O’Brien said to Adams.
“I can produce evidence of her marriage by tomorrow morning,” Adams said indifferently. “She’s wasting time denying it.”
O’Brien went to Gilda, took her arm and looked intently at her.
“Are you married to Yarde, kid?”
She hesitated, then gave a despairing little shrug.
“Yes. I’m sorry, Sean. I should have told you. I’m getting a divorce. I was a fool to have married him, and I’ve paid for it. I didn’t live with him for more than a month before I found out what he was. I was too ashamed to tell you.”
O’Brien gave her a crooked little smile.
“Forget it. We all make mistakes.” He patted her arm. “It’s okay, kid.” Then he turned to Adams. “You’ve poked your goddamn nose into too much of this. Take that guy out of here, charge him with the murder of Fay
Carson and make it stick! If I have any more bleating from you, I’ll have you thrown off the force!”