The odds of Bill’s murder being unrelated to the case were slim and I’d been the one to involve him in it. That made me responsible at a certain level, though I refused to claim fault.The real question was, why hadn’t they come after me instead? If someone had noticed my inquiries, I was the logical target. Maybe Bill had started poking around apart from me, tipped someone off.Then I remembered the four guys last night. They’d seemed unusually persistent for mere muggers, chasing me through the dive and into the alley, only breaking off when I sent a round their way. But they were hardly pros. Freelance muscle, punks for hire. Maybe they didn’t even have orders to kill me – just put me in the hospital for a week or two.Yeah, that was comforting.Hopefully Mickey would dig something up on Houdini. Until then, it appeared I had only one lead.Lattimer.Somehow I thought simply talking to him might not do the trick. Circumstances pointed to him covering for the heist, making sure it went smooth.
