“Not personally,” Malone said. “I—”
“But I’m supposed to know your boss,” Manelli said. “I don’t know him, either, so far.”
Malone shrugged. “I’m sure you do,” he said, and dropped the name almost casually: “Andrew J. Burris.”
Manelli raised his eyebrows. “So that’s who you are,” he said. “I ought to have known, Mr. Malone. And you want to talk to me a little bit, right?”
“That’s right,” Malone said.
“But this is no way to act, Mr. Malone,” Manelli said reproachfully. “After all, we understand each other, you and me. What you should do, you should come in through channels, in the correct way, so everything it would be open and above the board.”
“Through channels?” Malone said.
Manelli regarded him with a pitying glance. “You must be new on your job, Mr. Malone,” he said. “Because there is an entire system built up, and you don’t know about it. The way things work, we sit around and we don’t see people. And then somebody comes and presents his credentials, you might say—search warrants, for instance, or subpoenas. And then we know where we are.”
Malone shook his head. “This isn’t that kind of call,” he said. “It’s more a friendly type of call.”
“Mr. Malone,” Manelli said. The reproach was stronger in his voice. “You must be very new at your job.”