Golding’s face became distorted with rage. “If I bumped him off,” he said, “I did it with a six-shooter.”
“Meaning what?” Mason asked.
“Meaning there’d be five more...” The woman started for the desk, her eyes blazing.
Bill Golding’s face suddenly became an expressionless mask. The woman said thickly, “That’s all of it. It won’t do you any good to stick around. The party’s over.”
Mason said, “Rather nice hooch you serve out there, Golding.”
“It wouldn’t have been so good if I’d known who they were getting it for,” Golding snapped.
Mason said, “That line isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
The lawyer marched through the door, picked up Drake in the casino and went down the stairs, and out through the restaurant. “Now what?” Drake asked.
Mason said, “Cullens was here — they’re not talking. Call your office, Paul. Shoot two or three men down here. Sew this place up tight. I want Golding and the woman tailed when they leave, and I want the names of some of the customers who were up there, to use as witnesses.”
Drake said, “Hell, Perry, we can’t go busting into a place like that and ask the people who...”