“He didn’t want to talk about his troubles, but finally revealed that his brother was still in the hoosegow and his mother was “minding my business, as usual.” The thought of her in his office underwhelmed him. But he perked up when I told him the plan for that evening. “Hot diggety! We’ll take my car! ’Bout time you learned some real detecting, boy!” Ever since Hilary sold her Opel, I’d relied on taking cabs, or else walking. I would have shadowed Dutchy in a similar fashion, but Butler was too... fat to force him to walk and he was afraid of New York cabs, said they were too dangerous. Earlier, on the phone with O. J., I’d discovered Dutchy was picking up a good chunk of money writing gags for comics. I also learned he had an office in the West 40s which he secured rent-free so long as he did light secretarial work for the owner for part of each day. From personal recollection, as well as the remarks of his wife at the banquet, I knew Dutchy often “worked late.” That, added to the way he’d acted that morning, plus his behavior the night of Poe’s murder, totaled something that could be proven by watching him carefully for a few days.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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