“Hello, Mike,” greeted Griffith. “I’ve come to take a look at the body.”
“You’ll find it downstairs,” replied the man at the desk. “It’s on truck number six. You won’t have any trouble finding it.”
“Many people been in to see it?”
“Not yet. It was identified at the house. Couple of reporters came in. Expect there’ll be more later on; probably some female ones.”
“Yeah. They send the sob sisters out on these cases now. Gruesome details have a new touch when women write about them.”
“You don’t want to talk to any newspaper people, do you?”
“Send them down if they come in. They won’t bother me, and they won’t learn anything. It’s not my case anyway. Harrison is on it.”
Mike laughed.
“Well,” he said, “they’ve got to play up this murder with a lot of bunk. There’s no mystery about it.”
“No mystery?” murmured Griffith to himself, as he walked to the end of the hall. “We’ll see about that.”