"Who's this Romadka?" Billig whipped at him.
"An analyst," Phil gasped weakly. He nodded at Jack Jones. "He can tell you about him."
"I never heard of the man," Jack asserted instantly.
"You did," Phil mumbled desperately. "You saw how he was after me tonight. You must have guessed he was after the green cat."
Jack shook his head curtly. "He's making it up," he assured Billig.
Across the room Brimstine put down a phone and called to Billig, "Benson says Greeley's acting cool as they come, still confident the raid will start when he said."
"Well, don't freeze!" Billig rapped exasperatedly at Jack. "Get back to work on him."
As the small terrible hands approached, Phil looked imploringly at Mitzie.
"Dr. Anton Romadka is my father," she said coldly, "reputed to be a great psychoanalyst. This hysteric you're wasting time on is one of his patients."
"Darling, why didn't you say so before?" Billig asked her joyfully. "Dora, let go of her wrists at once!" The violet blonde complied with a cynical hop of her slim eyebrows.