But nobody bothered me on the way out The three who counted weren’t bothering anybody.I got in the car and put up the top. Privacy mattered right then. I jockeyed the car out of there, around all the trucks which seemed to be jackknifed all over the place, and bouncing the brakes every time some kid from an office ran across the street, with coffee or a folder of papers. My timing wasn’t very good. I had thought I was done when I left that warehouse, but I was still jerking as if somebody was jabbing at me.Two blocks away I stopped by a telephone booth. First I called Davy, the kid who read do-it-yourself things and held down a phone for Lippit. Lippit wasn’t there, he said, but that wasn’t why I had called.“You got a car over where you are, Davy?”“Yes, Mister St Louis.”“Jump in and drive over to the jobber’s warehouse, Davy, moving as if you were background only, and check out Benotti for me.”“You want me to tangle….”“I don’t mean that Just see where he goes.
