CHAPTER SEVENTEENShe was alive, and her husband, Benjamin Bruninski, tended to all her needs. Nathan ben Zinowicz was moaning and stirring while Lindsey secured his hands behind him and his ankles to each other. The only things he could use to accomplish the task were his own belt and Benjamin Bruninski’s.
There wasn’t a telephone in the apartment so Lindsey pounded down the stairs and across Barracks Street to the saloon and used the pay phone there to call the police. They arrived soon after he got back to the apartment.
They took a quick report from Benjamin Bruninski and another from Lindsey. Lindsey was happy to give them the revolver he’d taken from ben Zinowicz. Bruninski’s heavier weapon had disappeared while Lindsey was making his telephone call. He hadn’t really seen it clearly
