“I know,” I said, “but the rat got me mad.”
“I would have tipped you off, only I hadn’t time. But you ought to know Brandon hates your guts.”
“I know that, too. But what could I do? I had to tell him the story. What’s Salzer to him?”
Mifflin shrugged.
“Salzer’s a good friend to the police. Sure, I know he runs a racket up at that sanatorium. But there’s nothing illegal in it.” He lowered his voice, went on, “Where the hell do you think Brandon got his Cadillac from? A Captain of Police’s money doesn’t run to a job like that. And another thing: Maureen Crosby put Brandon’s kid through college, and she takes care of Mrs. Brandon’s doctor’s bills. You picked on two of Brandon’s best patrons.”
“I guessed there must be something like that to throw Brandon into such an uproar,” I said.
“Look, Tim, did Salzer really report his car stolen?”
“Yeah, I took the call myself.”
“What are you going to do about this killer? Anything or nothing?”
“Why, sure. We’re going to find him. I know what you’re thinking, Vic, but you’re wrong. Salzer’s too smooth to get mixed up in a killing. You can count him out.”