a male voice, please.
PART I
“This is going to be a shock to you, I'm afraid,” he said. “But I've thought about it for a long time and I've decided the only thing to do is to tell you right away. I hope you won't blame me too much.”
“So there it is,” he added. “And I know it's kind of a bad time to be telling you, but there simply wasn't any other way. Of course I'll give you money and see you're looked after. But there shouldn’t be any problem. I hope not anyway. It wouldn't be very good for my job.”
“For God's sake,” he said, hearing her, but not turning round. “Don't make supper for me. I'm going out.”
PART II
“Quick! Come quick! Patrick's dead!”
“Who's speaking?”
“Mrs. Maloney. Mrs. Patrick Maloney.”
“You mean Patrick Maloney's dead?”
“I think so,” she sobbed. “He's lying on the floor and I think he's dead.”
“Be right over,” the man said.
“Is he dead?” she cried.
“I'm afraid he is. What happened?”
“Which grocer?” one of the detectives asked.
PART III
“Jack Noonan,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Would you do me a small favour – you and these others?”
“We can try, Mrs Maloney.”
“Have some more, Charlie?”
“No. Better not finish it.”
“She wants us to finish it. She said so. Be doing her a favour.”
“Okay then. Give me some more.”
“That's the hell of a big club the guy must've used to hit poor Patrick,” one of them was saying. “The doc says his skull was smashed all to pieces just like from a sledge-hammer.”
“That's why it should be easy to find.”
“Exactly what I say.”
“Whoever done it, they're not going to be carrying a thing like that around with them longer than they need.”
One of them belched.
“Personally, I think it's right here in the house.”
“Probably right under our noses. What you think, Jack?”
