I guessed from that dumb crack he was a copper. He was.
“Search me,” I tried to say, but the words wouldn’t come. My mouth felt like it was full of rusty three-inch nails.
Moving like he was in church, the big house dick tip-toed across the room, into the bedroom. He came back with a blanket which he self-consciously draped over Miss Wonderly. She lay on her back, her arms and legs grotesquely spread out, her eyes closed.
“Who’s this guy?” the man in the gaberdine suit asked, turning to the reception clerk, and pointing at me.
The reception clerk looked like he was going to throw up. His face was pale green.
“Mr. Chester Cain,” he said, in a far-away voice.
That seemed to give the ugly guy a buzz.
“Sure?”
The reception clerk nodded.
The guy faced me. His flat puss was loaded with viciousness.