‘That’s what I said! What is she — untouchable or something?’
‘Sorry, Lieutenant,’ O’Brien said uncomfortably. ‘I know most people on my beat, and she’s a good girl. She works hard and keeps to herself. She’s never been in any trouble, and that’s saying something in this street.’
‘Wel , she’s in trouble now,’ Olin snapped. ‘Bring her here.’
O’Brien saluted and walked stiffly down the street. He went up to Anita, said something, took her elbow and brought her back to Olin.
Anita’s dark eyes were scared, but she didn’t flinch from Olin’s hard gaze.
‘You know Verne Baird?’ he snapped.
‘I’ve met him,’ Anita said.
‘Yeah? Didn’t he hole up in your room about a month ago?’ Olin demanded aggressively. ‘You’d better not lie. I’ve got a witness.’
She looked quickly away from him, and her eyes took in the stretcher. The intern was dropping a blanket across Hater’s dead face. She had a glimpse of the swollen, grotesque mask before the blanket hid it.
Her hands went to her breasts, and the colour drained out of her face. She looked appealingly at O’Brien, claiming his at ention because he was a familiar stranger among unfamiliar ones.