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The translation of which is “Do what you ‘re told, or I’ll lower the boom on you.”
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Peter Wohl called Detective Tony Harris from a pay phone in the lobby of the Ledger Building and told him that Arthur J. Nelson’s secretary was going to come up with a list of jewelry and other valuables that probably had been in the apartment, and that it would probably be ready by the time Harris could come to the Ledger Building.
And then he told Harris what Nelson had said about Louise Dutton being Jerome Nelson’s girl friend, and warned him not to get into Jerome’s sexual preference if there was any way it could be avoided. Somewhat surprising Wohl, Harris didn’t seem surprised.
“Thanks for the warning,” he said. “I can handle that.”
“He also suggested that by now the Jaguar has been stripped,” Wohl said.
“Could well be. They haven’t found it yet, and Jaguars are pretty easy to spot; there aren’t that many of them. Either stripped, or on a dock in New York or Baltimore waiting to get loaded on a boat for South America. I think we should keep looking.”
Wohl did not mention to Harris Nelson’s toast to vigilante justice, or his remark about what he really wanted to hear was that the doer had been killed resisting arrest. It was, more than likely, just talk.
When he hung up, he considered, and decided against, reporting to Commissioner Czernick about his meeting with Nelson. He really didn’t have anything important to say.
Instead, he found the number in the phone book, dropped a dime in the slot, and called WCBL-TV.
He had nearly as much trouble getting Louise on the line as he had getting in to see Arthur J. Nelson, but finally her voice came over the line.
“Dutton.”
Peter could hear voices and sounds in the background. Wherever she was, it wasn’t a private office.
“Hi,” Peter said.
“Hi,” she breathed happily. “I hoped you would call!”
“You all right?”
“Ginger-peachy, now,” she said. “What are you doing?”
“I just left Arthur J. Nelson,” he said.
“Rough?”
“He told me you were Jerome’s girl friend,” Peter said.
“Oh, the poor man!” she said. “You didn’t say anything?”
“No.”
“So?”
“So?” he parroted.
“So why did you call?”
“I dunno,” he said.
“What are you going to do now?” she asked.
“I’ve got to go by my office, and then figure out some way to get my car from where it’s parked in front of your house,” he said.
“I forgot about that,” she said. “Why don’t you pick me up here after I do the news at six? I could drive it to your place, or wherever.”
“Where would I meet you?”
