They walked out of the elevator and crossed the big lobby.
“That’s just it, Chief. You guys with daughters don’t think about the girls who disappear every year. Let me tell you, if I had a daughter I’d never take my eyes off her. I hope I don’t have one.”
They got in a taxi and Ellinger gave Fletcher’s address.
“What are you talking about?” Henry demanded. “What girls disappearing?”
Jay looked at him. “You know as well as I do. We can’t do anythin’ about it so we just say they’ve gone off to get married, or gone to Hollywood or some other excuse. This guy Fletcher is pretty sure that his sister’s been slaved. He thinks Grantham, and that means Mendetta too, is trading women. We know there’s no proof of it, but, by heavens, think what a stink we could make if we got the proof.”
Henry lit a cigar. “All right,” he said, “let’s see how this guy strikes me. If I think there’s anything to it you can go ahead, but Poison will have to give his okay first.”
“Poison will okay it if we can convince him. That’s why I’ve got you to come down now. If you think it’s all right we’ll both go an’ see Poison and give it to him with both barrels.”
The taxi drove up outside the tenement block. There was a large crowd standing around the front door. An ambulance and two police cars were parked on the opposite side of the street.
Jay bundled out of the car. He looked quickly at Henry, and together they ran up the steps. A big cop stepped in their way. “Take it easy,” he said, “you can’t come in here.”
Jay said, “We’re goin’ in, buddy. Meet the Editor−in−Chief of the St. Louis Banner. Big stuff, boy. Where’s your red carpet?”