He went away, leaving them still standing in his bedroom.
16
June 6th, 10.30 a.m.
JOHNSON, THE desk sergeant, chewed the end of his pen and regarded Jay with an unfavourable eye. He never had much use for crime reporters. They were always bobbing up at the wrong time and always asking embarrassing questions. Jay was no exception to this. In fact, he showed a lot of talent for being a nuisance.
Jay, with his hands full of petty and uninteresting crimes, was feeling irritable. He wanted a free hand to work on the Mendetta affair. The fact that Poison had warned him to lay off did not deter him. He was as determined to go ahead and find out what had happened to Fletcher’s sister as he had been before hearing Poison’s threat of dismissal. He knew he was good as a reporter and he knew he wouldn’t have far to look for another job. What did rile him was the number of small cases that had suddenly arisen during the night which he was bound to cover, and now he found himself chained by the leg to the station house, awaiting fresh evidence. It looked like he’d be there all the morning. Then he had to write up his two columns, so Fletcher’s sister would have to wait until the evening.
Johnson sighed. “It’s a pity your paper can’t find you a job of work to do,” he said sourly. “I’m gettin’ tired of seein’ you loafin’ around this joint. Why don’t you go out an’ take a little exercise?”
Jay put his feet up on the wooden bench and closed his eyes. “Leave me alone,” he said. “I’m sick of breathin’ the same air as you, but this is what I’m bein’ paid for, so leave out the cracks.”
The sergeant grunted and began to write laboriously in the charge book. “Well, there ain’t much about,” he said, blotting his neat writing carefully. “You guys live pretty soft, I must say.”
“It’s when there’s nothin’ about that we work hard,” Jay told him. “Look what we’ve got today. Petty thieving, an embezzlement, and a small−time forger. How would you like to make a column out of that little lot? What I want is a nice rape or a good murder. Somethin’ that’ll take my column on the front page.”
Johnson scowled. “Horrible lot you newspaper guys,” he said.