“Don’t tell me you’ve dug up another corpse?” he asked, alarmed.
“Not yet, but Brodey’s daughter has thrown an ing-bing. She’s nice, and she’s got on a kimono.”
“Japanese style, eh?” he said, interested. “Well, maybe I’d better come at that.”
Miss Brodey was lying where I had left her. She looked small and pathetic.
“The idea is to put her head between her knees and a key on the back of her neck,” Davis said, combing his hair.
“That’s for nose bleed, you dope,” I said. “At least, the key part of it is.”
“Well, give her some Scotch,” he advised. “I bet Brodey’s got a bottle somewhere around.”
He found it after a short, intensive search, took a long swig himself.
“Not bad,” he said, shaking his head at the bottle. “Lawyers always do themselves well.”
I sampled the Scotch too. He was right.