Hoff said, "Sure, Jerry. Ray's all right. It can happen to any of us." He downed his shot quickly and then came back and put his hand on Ray's arm. "Come on, Ray. Time for beddy-bye. Where do you live?"
Ray slid off the stool and jerked away. If only violence was going to get him arrested, then he might as well get it over with. "Keep your goddam hands off me. Mind your own damn business." And he started a roundhouse swing. He didn't really know whether or not he was trying to make it connect—but it didn't. And then he saw Hoff's fist coming up in a short sharp uppercut for his own chin—saw it, but not in time to duck. The lights went out.
He came to, to the sound and motion of a car. Thank God, it had worked; they were taking him in. He shook his head to clear it a little and saw that Hoff was sitting beside him in the back seat, the partner was driving.
Hoff said, "Take it easy, Ray. I can handle you but I don't want to have to hurt you. And you're not pinched—this time. I got your address from your wallet—and put your money that was on the bar in it. We're taking you home to the little wifie."
Oh, God, Oh, God, he thought; this can't be happening. They can't take me home now. It's only half past twelve or a few minutes later. It's too early, it's hours too early.
Under an alcoholic haze, part of his mind worked; it scuttled like a rat trying to get out of a trap. And it found a hole—a dangerous hole, but still a hole.
He reached into his left pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, unfolded it. As they passed a street light, jewels flashed. "Lookit, Hoffie," Ray said. "Why I was getting drunk. Stole this. Conscience. Give m'self up."
Hoff called out, "Hey, Willie. Pull in to the curb and give me the dome light on."
On the way back downtown, the way toward the police station, Hoff kept questioning him and he kept ducking. Yeah, he'd stolen the jewels. Didn't remember who from. Drunk. Needed sleep, let him tell 'em everything tomorrow when he'd sobered up.
He played drunker than he was and he was thinking that he hadn't really given anything away. Tomorrow he could deny everything. He could say he'd found the jewelry, in a handkerchief just as it was, and how could they prove he hadn't. They'd doubt him, but they couldn't prove a thing. Dolly and Irby weren't reporting the robbery, now that they had the check and confession, so there'd be no theft report to match the stuff. Why then had he told Hoff he'd stolen it? How did he know why? He was drunk, didn't remember anything after taking a swing at Hoff in Jerry's place. Some drunken impulse must have made him tell Hoff that, but he couldn't remember what it was, couldn't even remember having been in a squad car.