Wednesday, July 17, 2013

tales of the hotel st crispian, chapter 118: "play ball"

by manfred skyline

illustrated by konrad kraus and danny delacroix

editorial consultant: Prof. Dan Leo




when they reached the car, mullihan took a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket.

"is that really necessary, detective?" fortescue asked.

mullihan looked back at the coffee shop. suddenly he looked tired. "no, i guess not. just get in the back. "

fortescue helped carol into the back seat and got in himself. after a tremendous yawn, mullihan started the car and they glided away.

"long night?" fortescue asked politely.

"very long."

"then i trust we can make our statements quickly and get this over with."

"mmm."

"you seemed to indicate," fortescue continued, "that you had some knowledge of the dead man, other than in his capacity as proprietor of the shop."

"i did?"

"you said you knew where he lived."

"did i say that?"

"that was my impression. perhaps i misheard."

mullihan laughed. "no, you didn't mishear. listen, limey, i'll tell you what. i'll play ball with you if you play ball with me. how does that sound?"

"that sounds like a most salutary arrangement."

"and how about you, miss?"

carol had been looking out the window. she had never known manhattan had such small, dark streets.

"miss?" mullihan repeated.

"oh, excuse me?"

"are you going to play ball with me, tell me everything you know?"

"uh - yes, of course."

"good. because here we are."

they had stopped in front of a small dark corner building with a light showing in one window. if there was a sign indicating it was a police station, it was not evident in the dark.





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