“I like that,” he said, rolling thick smoke around in his mouth before releasing it. “You had enough for one night. Yeah, that’s very nice. But, pally, how wrong you are. The night hasn’t even started for you yet.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Let’s get going,” Hartsell said in a hard voice. “I’m on duty in another hour.”
MacGraw frowned at him.
“Take it easy, can’t you? What’s it matter if you are a little late? We’re on duty right now, aren’t we?” He glanced at me. “What were you talking to Stevens about?”
“I wanted to know if he was satisfied Janet Crosby died of heart failure. He wasn’t.”
MacGraw chuckled and rubbed his big white hands together. He seemed genuinely pleased to hear this.
“You know the Captain’s no fool,” he said to Hartsell. “I’m not saying he’s everyone’s bed-fellow, but he’s no fool. Those were his very words. ‘I’ll bet that son-of-a-bitch was talking to Stevens about the Crosbys.’ That’s what he said to me as soon as we got the description. And he was right.”
Hartsell gave me a long, mean look.
“Yeah,” he said.