“Know anything about it?”
“No, of course not. Why?”
“Weren’t you in the hotel the night he was killed? Didn’t you talk with a blonde at the cigar stand, and again with a clerk, trying to pump them about Ringold?”
“Gosh, no!” I said, backing away a step or two and staring at them as though I thought they were mad. “Say, wait a minute. Who are you birds, anyway? Are you officers?”
“Of course we’re officers.”
“Got a warrant?”
“Now listen, buddy. Don’t go getting hard, see? And don’t start playing wise guy. Right now we’re asking questions. That’s all.”
“What do you want to know?”
“According to the D.A., you could have had an interest in Ringold.”
“How do you figure?”