“I’ll wait until they find him,” he said, starting the engine. “I’m not sticking my glass chin out by telling them he’s there. They might tie me to it.”
He let in the clutch and we shot away from the kerb.
4
“Is this where Brodey hangs out?” I asked, as Davis stopped the car in front of a big house on
Macklin Avenue.
“Across the way,” Davis said, pointing. “I’m not parking before any more death houses. Jeese! That was a dumb trick. If a copper had seen us come out—”
“Forget it,” I said, getting out of the car. “Show me the place, and don’t get so excited.”
“Excited? For crying out loud! I don’t like running into corpses that haven’t been turned up by the cops. It’s too dangerous.”
We crossed the road. Somewhere out of sight a car engine roared.
Davis paused in mid-stride.