“Whisky,” I said, “we’re going after Arym. She’s the only one who can save Myra.”
“How can she help her?” Whisky asked hopelessly.
“Don’t you understand? She’s got half of Myra’s willpower and strength. Get them together and they can both make a real fight for it. Peppi will know where she is. I’ll see him first.”
“You’re taking a chance with Peppi, aren’t you?”
“I have to take a chance. If he doesn’t know where she is, I’m sunk.”
“He won’t talk without those photos,” Whisky said. “Why not get ’em and trade with him?” I glanced at my watch. It was seven fifty. Maddox would have gone home by now.
“It’s an idea,” I said, waving down a passing cab. “If we can get into Maddox’s office, I think I can bust his safe?”
As we drove off Whisky said, “I don’t think I want to be mixed up in this. I was merely giving advice.”
“You’ll come with me and like it,” I said shortly. “It all depends whether we can reach Maddox’s office without being seen. If we can, then the rest’s easy.”
Whisky clicked his teeth uneasily. “They wouldn’t put a dog in jail, would they?” he asked.