“His face could have been carved out of granite. His small blue eyes probed. His thin lips remained in a hard, unsmiling line.“Hello, Steve,” he said, not getting up from behind his desk. “Sit down. What's cooking?”As soon as I had gone through the morning mail and had dictated to Jean, I had dropped everything and had driven over to Webber's office.“Wally's notebooks,” I said, sitting down. “Shirley tells me you have them.”“Yeah.”I stared at him.“What's the idea?”“Playing it smart.” Webber pull...ed at his cigar, clenched between his teeth and released a cloud of smoke in my direction. “That's what I'm here for . . . to play it smart.”“So?”“That punk Goldstein has been questioning Wally. He wants to know who gave Wally the tip-off that Hammond has been padding the accounts. Wally always protects his informants. I know Wally keeps names in his notebooks so before Goldstein could get around to Shirley, I got around and I have the books.”It sounded good, but too smooth to me.“So Shirley tells Goldstein - as she told me - that you have the books.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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