But what? Bolan had clearly touched a raw nerve with his "headcase" remarks. And while it was a long way from proving the veteran cop's involvement in a murder cover-up, Fawcett's reaction to that probe definitely warranted a deeper look. The big guy touched base with Pol Blancanales via the compact radio transceiver. He raised his old friend on the second try. "Able One," Pol's tinny voice responded. "I read you, Stony Man, over." "What's the condition of our patient?" Bolan asked. "Anything but," came the answer. "She's climbing the walls here." "Keep the lid on, Able. I'm rattling cages right now." "Uh, you may be hitting paydirt, Stony Man," his old friend said. "We just heard from the lady law, and she wants a parley with La Mancha, soonest.'' "Name the place," Bolan said. Blancanales gave him the address of a twenty-four-hour restaurant just off Kellogg Boulevard.
