“Some dirty post-cards and a stuffed rat,” Kerman said. “I’ll leave those to you.”
As the light changed to green, I said, “What’s the news? Find anything on Mrs. Salzer?”
Kerman lit a cigarette, dropped the match into the back seat of the Pontiac as it tried to nose past us.
“You bet. Watch your driving, this is going to knock you sideways. I’ve been digging all morning. Know who she is?”
I swung the car on to Fairview Boulevard.
“Tell me.”
“Macdonald Crosby’s second wife: Maureen’s mother.”
I swerved half across the road, missed a truck that was pounding along and minding its own business, and had the driver curse at me. I edged back to the near side.
“I told you to watch it,” Kerman said, and grinned. “Hot, isn’t it?”
“Go on : what else?”