He said unhappily. "But I did kill them, both of them. I remember, Lieutenant. I'm sure."
"You just think you're sure, Benny. Now before you go to sleep tonight and in the morning after you wake up you think over what I said and make yourself a little less sure. I—"
The door opened and two men in the uniforms of turnkeys from the city jail on the upper floors of the building came in. One of them, the tall one, said, "Package for us, Lieutenant? You through with him?"
The lieutenant sighed. "Yeah, I guess I'm through with him. This is Benny Knox, boys. He'll be your guest tonight. A disposition order will come up sometime tomorrow."
"Sure. Just in the tank?"
"Hell, no. Benny never took a drink in his life; don't put him in with the drunks. You've got cell space, haven't you?"
"Yeah. What's with the cigar box he's got? A time bomb, maybe?"
"It's got money in it," the lieutenant said, "and be sure there's the same amount when you turn it in."
The tall turnkey grinned. "Why, Lieutenant! Have you frisked him otherwise?"
"No, Benny wouldn't be carrying a—Oh, I suppose we might as well protect ourselves by following the routine. He just might get a funny idea, at that. You take care of it."