“He is? The dirty bastard.”
You might have thought Egan had said he was a dope peddler. He did say, “Get him back in the chair.”
Mort issued a command, and Fred returned into view. He lowered himself into the chair and spoke. “Look, Egan, a private dick has his private life. I heard that my wife—”
“Can it. Who you working for?”
“I’m telling you. I wanted to check—”
“I said can it. Where did you get these pictures?”
“That’s another matter. That’s just business.”
“There’s one of Birch. Where’d you get ‘em?”
“I thought I might get a line on the murder of that Mrs. Fromm and pull something.”
“Who you working for?”