“Certainly,” I told him, “I guaranteed it. Before we stimulate you again, a couple of points. You get one more chance to call the cops, that’s all. You could keep this up all night. Second, it might be slick to come across now. If you’re taking it for granted that your address book will get to the cops anyway, you’re wrong. I’ll give it to Mr. Wolfe, and he’s working on a murder, and I don’t think he’ll feel like turning all those people over to the law. That’s not his lookout. I make no promise, but I’m telling you. All right, Fred. Pin him, Saul.”
That time we reversed it, crossing his left leg over his right, and we made the turns slightly tighter. Fred took the cord ends, and I returned to the chair. The reaction came quicker and stronger. In ten seconds his face began to twist. In ten more his forehead and neck went wet with sweat. His gray face got grayer, and his eyes opened and started to bulge. I was about to tell Fred to ease it a little when he gasped, “Let up!”
“Off a little, Fred. Just hold it. Was Birch in on the racket?”
“Yes!”
“Who’s the boss?”
“Birch was. Take that cord off!”
“In a minute. It’s better than pliers. Who’s the boss now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Nuts. The cord had better stay a while. Did you see Birch in a car with a woman last Tuesday afternoon?”
“Yes, but it wasn’t parked in front of Danny’s.”