Stinson growled at the blank screen. "Who is it?"
"Never mind," Tom said, muffling his voice. "But if you want the killers of Walt Spencer and his wife, pick up John Andrusco and a gal named Livia Cord."
"Okay, Blacker," Stinson thundered. "I knew you'd be calling in."
Tom swore, and showed himself. "Listen, I'm telling you the truth. They told me the whole story. Then they tried to have me killed."
"Is that so? And I suppose the assassin was a guy named Wright?"
"Yes!"
"Okay, wise guy. We're on to you. You've been pocketing some of that Homelovers dough, and the treasurer found you out. Isn't that the story?"
"No! Wright's one of them."
"Sure, pal. Whatever you say. Only stay right where you are so you can do your explaining proper."
Tom tightened his lips. "Uh-huh. I don't like the sound of things. I'll see you later, Mr. Stinson."