"Sure," Malone said cheerfully. "As long as you don't try to use it."
"Now, Malone—" Lynch began.
"This is touchy stuff," Malone said. "We're going to have to take a lot of care in handling it. And I don't want you throwing raids all over the place and mixing everything up."
"Malone, I—"
"Eventually," Malone said, "I'm going to need your help with these kids. But for right now, I want to handle this my way, without any interference."
"I wouldn't think of—"
"You wanted information," Malone said. "Fine. That's all right with me. You got the information, and that's okay too. But if you try to use it before I say the word, I'll—I'll talk to good old Uncle John Henry Fernack. And he'll help me out; he'll give you a refresher course on How To Be A Beat Cop. In Kew Gardens. It's nice and lonely out there now, Lynch, You'd love it."
"Malone," Lynch said tiredly.
"Don't give me any arguments," Malone said. "I don't want any arguments."
"I won't argue with you, Malone," Lynch said. "I've been trying to tell you something."