“He sat next to Anita in the front seat, his hands tied behind his back. I sat in the tiny space behind the seats, my arm draped around Pultman’s neck. He didn’t say anything, and I tried not to look at him. The makeup streaking his face made him look like a hungry zombie in a Monogram serial. Maybe we could get Pultman and Fiona together in the interrogation room at the Wilshire and they could have a little chat and touch up each other’s makeup. But then again it was probably a better idea to k...eep them apart. I’d have to leave that decision to the police.We ushered our prisoner to the desk sergeant—another old-timer, this one named Wilson—at a little before three in the morning. My ankle had settled into a steady throb.“What’s the cat drug in here, Peters?” he asked, peering over the top of his glasses.“A badly accessorized murderer,” I said. “You want to give Cawelti a call. Wake him up. Tell him I’ve got Pultman.”“Don’t have to wake him unless he’s asleep in the Squad Room,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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