Corinna raised her thick dark brows in puzzlement. Kintyre nodded. "Yes. Long-distance, though not transatlantic, calls from a public booth," he said. "No chance of being eavesdropped on."
"It may not mean a damn relevant thing," said Yamamura. "The most legitimate businesses have their secrets. But I'll admit to being curious. Did Bruce steer him onto something big? And did a business rival then strike at Bruce? That doesn't sound likely. Maybe Clayton himself—no, hardly that. In my line of work I'd have heard it if he weren't straight, or if he associated with thugs."
Kintyre jammed his fists into knots. An intake of air hissed between his teeth.
"What is it?" Corinna's alarm seemed to come from far away.
"Nothing. Or possibly something. Never mind. Go on, Trig."
Only part of him heard the detective continue. The rest said through thunder: One more suspect. I had been sure Clayton, of all people, must be innocent. For the Federal government would have assured itself he knows no assassins—Trig, perhaps more reliably, tells me the same—and he could not have found any on short notice, and it is impossible he could have done the crime personally.
But Guido might have such connections!
Did Clayton see Guido again?
"Then I went around and chivvied the cops," said Yamamura. "They were just hauling in the Michaelis family, and hadn't much time for any other ideas. However, they are going to check house rentals over the weekend. You see, what was done—I'm sorry, Miss Lombardi—the deed would require an isolated spot. An entire house, at least. For the noise."
"Has anything come of that?" asked Corinna with a great steadiness.