“Yeah, he had a S and W under his arm takin’ his tempachure.”
I stayed down until the newcomer’s steps had crossed to the door and entered, then slowly came up until one eye reached the glass of the car’s door. Mort had circled back to his former position and was standing beside the chair. Lips Egan stood across the table from Fred. He was fairly husky, with saggy shoulders, and was gray all over except for his blue shirt — gray suit, gray tie, gray face, and some gray in his dark hair. The tip of his nose tilted up a little.
“Your name’s O’Connor?” he asked.
“Yes,” Fred said.
“What’s this about Matt Birch and your wife?”
“Someone told me they saw her in a car with him last Tuesday afternoon. I think maybe she was cheating on me. Then he got killed that night.”
“Did you kill him?”
Fred shook his head. “I never heard about her being with him until yesterday.”
“Where were they seen?”
“The car was parked in front of Danny’s. That’s why I went there.”