Seaborn?s office; you had talked to him when Seaborn called you at Babs? party You also knew
Raines would intimidate Seaborn enough to get the whole story. You probably had your gun there in
the desk, or in the car. After I called you, you called Seaborn?s office again, told Harry you?d meet
him over here. „Then you went downstairs and took the walkway through the park toward the bank.
When he came up on you and said, „You?re finished,? you knew your career was flushed, so you shot
him. „The girl screamed, you ran back toward the river, dumped the gun, and came back here in time
to get Dutch?s call.”
He sighed and shook his head. “Well “ he said, “I must admit you?ve got quite the imagination. But I
can see why you don?t practice law. You couldn?t get anywhere with that outrageous bunch of
circumstantial bullshit.”
The office door opened and the Stick meandered in, his hat perched on the hack of his head as usual
“Who the hell are you?” Donleavy demanded.
“He?s with me,” I said, and to the Stick, „Did you get it?”
He smiled and took a package out of his jacket pocket. It was
381 a Baggie containing a very wet silver-plated S&W .38, with black rubber pistol grips. I looked at
it. There was a number scratched on a piece of tape on the side of the bag.
“The number of your .38—is it 7906549?” 1 asked Donleavy.
“What .38?” he demanded.
“The one you bought on February third of last year at Odum?s Sport Shop on Third Street,” Stick said.
“Mr. Odum remembers it very well. The only thing he had to look up was the exact day and the serial
number.”
“This is hard evidence,” I said. “There?s nothing circumstantial about a murder weapon.”
“That gun was stolen from me months ago,” he squealed.
“Tell it to the judge,” I said.
“Let me see that,” he demanded.
“When we get downtown,” I said. “You want to book the man, Stick?”
“Delighted,” he said, grinning, “What?s the charge?”
“Murder in the first,” I said. “Let?s go all the way.”
Stick took off his hat and peered into it. He had a list of rights printed on a card taped to the inside of
the crown and started reading them to Donleavy.
“You have a right to remain silent—”
Donleavy swatted the hat out of his hands. “The hell with that,” he snarled, reaching for the phone.
I laid a forefinger on the receiver. “You can make your call from the tank like everybody else does,” I
