Kerrigan had raised his head and he was staring at the mirror behind the bar. He watched the smoke climbing languidly from the cigarette in Channing’s mouth. His hand moved slowly along the side of his jacket and he reached into the pocket containing the camera.
He waited until Dugan served Channing a water glass filled with whisky. Then he walked across the room to Channing’s table. He took the camera out of his pocket and put it on the table.
“What’s this?” Channing asked without interest.
“It belongs to your sister.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“She left it with me.”
Channing frowned slightly. He picked up the camera and turned it around in his hands, holding it close to his eyes and giving it a careful inspection. Then he put it down and his head turned slowly and he looked at Kerrigan.
He said, “Aren’t you the man I met last night?”
Kerrigan nodded. “You bought me a beer. We talked for a while.”
“Yes, I remember.” Channing turned his attention back to the camera. “What’s the story on this?”