"Bring her in." Rage ran over him in little prickles. How dare some sensation-mad female waste his time in order to satisfy her perverted and depraved appetite.
Williams swung the door back and ushered in a bright fashionable figure.
It was Judy Sellers.
She said nothing, but came into the room with a sulky deliberation. Even in his surprise at seeing her, Grant thought how Borstal she was in spite of her soigne exterior. That air of resentment against the world in general and her own fate in particular was very familiar to him.
He pulled out a chair in silence. Grant could be very intimidating.
"All right, Sergeant," he said, "there won't be any need for you to stay." And then, to Judy as Williams went: "Don't you think this is a little unfair, Miss Sellers?"
"Unfair?"
"I am working twenty-three hours out of the twenty-four, on dreadfully important work, and you see fit to waste my time by treating us to a bogus confession."
"There's nothing bogus about it."
"It's so bogus that I have a good mind to dismiss you now, without another word."