“No,” Freel said tonelessly. “I didn’t kill him. I never killed anyone.”
Mason tossed him the ten thousand dollars. “All right, Freel,” he said, “here’s your money. Come on, Paul.”
Freel watched the two men out into the corridor. Then he darted over to close and lock the door.
“Put an operative on him,” Mason said to Drake.
“He’ll skip out,” Drake said.
“I want him to skip out,” Mason said, “and I want to know where he goes.”
Drake stopped at the corner drugstore to call his office. When he emerged, he nodded to Mason. “An operative will be on the job in ten minutes, Perry.”
“Now,” Mason said, climbing into Drake’s car, “tell me something about Peltham.”
“What about him?”
“He lived in an apartment?”