“I wonder how much Mendetta gave him, the dirty rat−faced heel,” Jay said, picking up his hat. “If he thinks he can stop me he’s made a big mistake.”
Henry looked worried. “You’ve got to leave it alone, Jay,” he said. “Poison’s the big shot.”
“Yeah? Well, I don’t spell it that way,” and Jay slammed out of the house.
11
June 6th, 12.30 a.m.
GRANTHAM SAT behind his neat desk, writing. A cigarette burnt lazily in an ash−tray at his elbow, and the room was silent but for the faint scratch of his pen.
He heard his door open, and he glanced up irritably. Raven stood looking at him. Behind Raven, Grantham could see Lu Eller, white−faced and uncertain.
Grantham laid down his pen very slowly. The colour went out of his face and a muscle in his jaw began to jump.
Raven said, “Tell this monkey to go away.”
Grantham knew that Mendetta was dead. Raven would never have come if Mendetta wasn’t dead. He told Eller with his eyes to go away. He didn’t trust his voice.