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then gave him another across the ear. “That’s for the smart mouth, punk. Try it again.”
    Some of the people watching grumbled, but just as many laughed. They didn’t like punks either. I turned to the broad and pointed to the purse in her hand. “Get it out, kid, let’s see it all. Who you are, where you live, the works.”
    “Listen… !”
    “You ever do time, kid?”
    Her eyes said yes. Her eyes said they didn’t want to do any more, either. She opened the purse and showed me her Social Security card that gave her name as Paula Lees and a receipted bill for a room a block over. I knew what she was and the business she was in but didn’t push it at all. When I told her okay and to put it away her eyes said thanks and gave Loefert a dirty look.
    By tomorrow everybody would have the story. Loefert was part of big time moving downtown, but they weren’t snot nosing this badge. When I moved them on I stood there a minute, said to hell with the subway and grabbed a cab cruising by.
    It only took fifteen minutes to change the sight and sound and smells. I opened the door of my apartment and it was like being in a different world.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    AFTER breakfast in the cafeteria near headquarters, I went up to my desk and started clearing out details that had been laying over. In a way it was good to be on a single assignment. You had a chance to shove unfinished business on somebody else for a change, and for once you could devote yourself to thinking along a straight line.
    Close to noon Mack Brissom gave his usual rap and opened the door. He had two containers of coffee, put them on the desk and settled down with a tired sigh.
    I said, “What’re you doing in on Sunday?”
    “That Canadian business. It’s in Homicide now.”
    I frowned, shook my head, but couldn’t remember it.
    “That armored car stickup in Montreal. One and half million.”
    “Why have we got it?”
    Mack grunted and reached for his coffee. “Not we. Me. You’re the fair-haired boy who don’t have to work. The two guards are dead. Both the hoods who hit the truck were tracked to the Falls, crossed over into Buffalo and are supposedly heading toward New York.”
    “So catch ’em. You know who they are?”
    “We know one. Charlie Darpsey. Used to be with the Brooklyn crowd. One of the guards was an ex-cop with a retirement job and recognized him from police fliers some years back. He lived long enough to pass out the name.”
    “Work, slob,” I grinned.
    He tipped the container up, swallowed noisily, then put it back. “Like you?” He was holding a smile back.
    “What?”
    “I happened to be in the Inspector’s office earlier. Seems like you touched the wrong funny bone somewhere. The squawk was loud.”
    “It didn’t reach me.”
    “For a while, I don’t think it will. They’re waiting to see if that kind of action gets any results.” He leaned back and felt for a smoke in his pocket. He was out and looked at me disgustedly a second because I couldn’t help him any. Then: “How’s it going?”
    “Nothing yet, you know how it goes. I saw Benny Loefert around there.”
    Mack nodded. “That’s what I came in to tell you about, couple of pigeons reported in that Loefert, Beamish, Will Pater and Steve Lutz have been moving around.”
    “High-priced guns?”
    “Yeah. All but Lutz took rooms in the area. They’re giving the place real class.”
    “I shook Loefert down last night. Gave him a little bang to set him straight.”
    “We heard about that too. Beat cop picked it up. You meet him yet?”
    “No.”
    “Nice kid. Just off probationary duty. Turns in reports like they’ll be kept for posterity. Detailed? Hell, he’d even turn in the number of spit marks on the sidewalk if he thought it necessary.”
    “He’ll make out. We were all like that,” I said.
    “Sure.” He got up and picked his container off the desk. “We’re going to keep track of the uptown lads. If anything comes through we’ll pass it