“She can do that when Homicide gets here,” the radio officer said. “I’m just keeping the evidence lined up. Go on. Out with you. I’ll call you if I want anything.”
Mason led the way out into the fresh air and warm sunlight. The radio officer followed them to the door and called to his partner, who sat behind the wheel of the radio car. “Keep an eye on this outfit, Jack. There’s a stiff in here. It’s a job for Homicide right enough.”
He stepped back inside the house and slammed the door.
Mason offered Mrs. Tidings a cigarette, which she accepted gratefully. Drake shook his head in refusal. Mason placed one between his own lips, and snapped a match into flame. As he held the light to Mrs. Tidings’ cigarette, the grind of a motor running fast in second gear could be heard from the grade.
“That’ll be Homicide,” Mason said.
The Homicide car flashed swiftly around the turn, hit the more level stretch of roadway along the ridge, and swept down upon them. Men jumped out. The radio officer got out from his car and reported in a low voice. The other radio officer appeared at the door of the house. “In here, boys,” he said.
Sergeant Holcomb strode across to Mason. “Hello, Mason.”
“Good morning, Sergeant.”
“How’s it happen you’re here?”
“I had some business with Albert Tidings,” Mason said. “I had a tip I could find him here.”