“Well, so long as she’s okay,” Davis said, combing his hair and looking puzzled, “that’s swell.”
Tim said, “The trouble with this guy is he won’t leave trouble alone. There was a sweet scene when Hetty heard he was coming back—”
“All right,” I interrupted curtly. “Let’s skip the domestic details. What’s new?”
“Plenty,” Davis said, lighting a cigarette. “Flaggerty’s dead for a start. Howja like that? He was killed by one of the convicts: cracked his skull with an axe.”
“That’s one less for me to bother about,” I said.
“Yeah. And here’s a juicy morsel. Killeano’s taken over Flaggerty’s job. He won’t release the jail break to the press. I guess it’s too close to the election for bad news to be told to the trusting public.”
“What happened to Mitchell?”
“He skipped out. I saw him before he went, and he gave me the whole story. I hand it to you, pal. It was a pretty smooth effort. I wrote it up, but the editor killed it after consulting Killeano. The public doesn’t know a thing about it.”
“And Maxison?”
“He managed to keep his nose clean, but only just. Laura supported his story, and after sweating him, Killeano turned him loose. He’s back at work now, but, I must say, he looks like a fugitive from the Lost Horizon. There’s one thing you ought to know. They’ve turned up Brodey’s body.”