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Show -273 or something. What do you think that makes me look like? Some kind of a fool. And I don't appreciate it." His telephone rang and he stopped to answer it. Jacob leaned toward me. "You know how that gun got there," he whispered. "Carlo. He's playing games. He's out of control. Why didn't you let me go home before all this began? What can we do now?" "Go home today if you want to," I whispered back. His face was miserable. "I can't. Not now," Brady clamped the phone to his ear with one lifted shoulder and pulled a thin cigar out of his pocket. He put his feet on the desk and leaned back, listening. "I called Kathleen last night and when I hung up I cried. Where is all this going to end?" Jacob said. Brady hung up the phone. "I'm not an ambitious man," he said. "But I don't plan to get thrown out of my job because funny things happen here and I don't get to the bottom of them. The City Council would be pleased to do just that, and I'm not going to give them the chance." He pointed the burning end of his cigar at my brother. "You're a lawyer, Jacob. So you know what it means to fool around with evidence in a homicide. All I can say is watch out." "Homicide?" I said. "Last week it was a regrettable |