Grosset dropped his cigarette butt into the ash-tray. “Listen, Fenner, you and I don’t have to fight. I’ll put my cards on the table. That Chink had been dead thirty-six hours. The tip was clumsy and we guessed it was a plant, but we had to look into it. Well, we’re interested in this Chinaman. We want to get a line on him. Suppose you give us your angle of this?”
Fenner scratched his nose. “Brother,” he said, “I feel like I want to beat a drum in the Salvation Army after that speech. If I knew a thing about it, I’d tell you. If that Chink meant anything to me I’d give it to you fast, but he doesn’t. I’ve never had a Chink in my office. I’ve never set eyes on your dead Chink, and I hope to God I never will.”
Grosset looked at him thoughtfully. “I’ve heard you were like that,” he said gloomily. “You like to run on your own and then turn the whole thing over to us after you’ve got it sewn up. All right, if that’s the way you want to play it, go ahead. If we can help you, we will, but if you get into trouble, we’ll crack down on you so hard you’ll think the Empire State building is on your neck.”
Fenner grinned and got to his feet. “All set?” he said. “If you’re through, I got some work to do.”
Grosset nodded. “Hang around, Fenner; I’ll be seeing you again before long.” He jerked his head at his two watchdogs, and the three of them walked out of the lobby.
Paula came out of the cocktail lounge and caught up with Fenner as he moved to the exit. He said, “Where have you been?”
“Listen, Dave,” she said, “I’ve been talking to Mr. Lindsay. I’ve got a record of what’s been happening to his daughter. Why don’t you have a look at it?”
Fenner regarded her with a cold eye.
Listen, not another word about Lindsay and his daughter. I ain’t interested, I’ve never been interested, and I never will be interested. I’ve got enough on my mind to last me a lifetime.”
“Considering the size of your mind, it doesn’t surprise me,” Paula said coldly, and followed him out into the street.