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“Yeah, and if they stopped Strickland today, all they could hold him on is theft of a pair of coveralls. He’s probably disposed of them by now. Bastard. They were my favorite pair.”
Although Gall was making light of it, Dent could tell the older man had been shaken. Dent sure as hell was. Attacking him was one thing. Attacking Gall was a clear indication of just how vindictive this individual was.
Worried for Gall’s safety, Dent asked if he was still at the hangar.
“No, I got the place locked up good and tight, then left. Short night, but, you know.”
“This guy won’t appreciate being made a fool of. You’re probably not safe at home, either.”
“I didn’t go home.”
“My place?”
“No safer than mine.”
Dent remembered the strange phone number. “Whose number is this?”
“A lady I know.”
“Lady?”
“She’ll put me up for a day or two.”
“You know a lady?”
“What? You think you got a monopoly?”
“Not lately,” Dent grumbled, cutting a glance toward Bellamy. She’d returned to the armchair that she’d been sitting in the night before. She was listening intently to his side of the conversation and could probably hear Gall, too.
“Sorry to call you at this hour of the morning,” Gall was saying. “But I just got settled in here. Thought you should know right away.”
Dent agreed, he just didn’t know what to do with the information. He rested his forehead in his hand, weakened by the thought of what could have happened to Gall if that pickup had been parked facing north instead of south. “Sorry I yelled at you when I answered.”
“I’m used to it.”
“I’m still sorry.”
There was an extended moment of silence, which was full of understanding but no unnecessary sloppiness. Finally Gall asked about their meeting with Moody, and Dent gave him a rundown. “He and I had no kind words for each other.”
“You didn’t shoot him?”
“No, but I hit him.”
“Overdue. Got to give him some credit, though.”
“For what? Plotting to frame me for murder?”
“For admitting it.”
Dent didn’t say anything.
“What are you going to do now, Ace?”
“Hold on.” He covered the receiver and said to Bellamy, “Are you speaking to me this morning?”
“You kept your word.”
“Yeah, I’m a regular choirboy. One who’s desperate for coffee. The help-yourself bar in the lobby opens at six. I noticed the sign. Would you fetch me a cup?”
