Miss Wonderly looked at Killeano and then at me. She was pale, but there was a light in her eyes that gave me hope.
“He didn’t do it,” she said. “It was a frame-up. I don’t care what you do to me. He didn’t do it! Do you hear? He didn ’t do it!"
Killeano looked at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears. His fat face went yellow with rage.
“You bitch!” he said, and slapped her hard across her face.
One of the cops wound his night-stick across my throat and held on. I couldn’t move: I couldn’t breathe.
Flaggerty and Killeano just stood looking at Miss Wonderly. She held her burning cheek and looked back at them.
“He didn’t do it!” she repeated, wildly. “You can keep your rotten money. You can kill me. But I won’t go through with it!”
I gave a croaking cheer.
Killeano turned to Flaggerty. “Arrest them,” he said, in a thin reedy voice. “We’ll get her on an accessory rap. And soften both of them.” He looked at Miss Wonderly. “You’ll be sorry for this,” he said, and crossed the room, opened the door and went out. He closed the door gently behind him.