Mort nodded. "And guess who he was calling for?"
"Don't tell me," I said.
"That's right," Mort declared. "He said he was God's secretary, Gabriel, calling from Heaven for his boss. He said his boss wanted to talk to Hitler and Mussolini!"
blinked. "And what was God going to tell those lice?"
"To take it on the lam, or else!" Mike broke in.
"No fooling?"
"So help me!" Mort swore. "What a loony. He went on to say—this fake Angel Gabriel—that his boss just wanted to tell those two jerks, Adolf and Benito, that enough was enough and they were dead ducks for sure."
"What made this Gabriel from the nut house get so confidential all of a sudden?" I demanded. "He wouldn't tell his business at all at first."