"Still—you do know him. Mr. Harrison, here, says he works on the atom bomb."
"That's right."
Black swore. "Make dandy headlines. Police allow suicide of scientist."
The younger cop said, "What sort of kid is he? Determined? Gutty? He looks that way."
"Yeah. And a little spoiled."
The cop whistled without making any sound. "Girl?"
I nodded.
"Where's she?"
"Hattie Blaine's," I replied, after thinking it over.
He looked out the window and shook his head. "Jesus!"