“Well, I’m not arguing with you,” Drake told him philosophically, “I’m telling you what the authorities claim. They’ve claimed absurdities before and they’ll probably do so again. What’s happened up there, Perry? You seem to have your fighting clothes on.”
“Oh, they tried to get rough with Mrs. Breel,” Mason said.
“Did they get anywhere?”
“Nowhere at all,” Mason reported, and chuckled at the thought.
“How about Lone Bedford?”
“She’s still in the Milpas Apartments.”
“Has Pete Chennery come in yet?”
“Not according to latest reports.”
“All right, then,” Mason said, “we’ll take the gambling-house angle. I’m out at the Dearborn Memorial Hospital. You’d better come out and pick me up. I came out in a cab.”
Drake said, “I’ll be out there in ten minutes.”