Chapter 20
RAIN DRUMMED on the roof of the cab, echoing the rhythmic pounding somewhere back of McCloud’s eyes. The mess that Steve McCloud was in was even dirtier than it had been. Hunched low in a corner of the tonneau, wearing a hat and trench coat that had formerly been the property of Bill Green, now sojourning in San Quentin, McCloud shivered with the early morning cold.
He had not called Jessup; had not, indeed, called anyone, mainly because there didn’t seem to be any point to it. Jessup could not help him locate Sheila. Jessup, in fact, would not be interested in anything but the Kahn diamonds and the hundred and twenty-five grand.
Not having either, McCloud thought that the less he said about them the better.
He wondered how Van Felix was making out. Among other chores McClou
