Mulrooney felt so vulnerable he had to fight his recurring impulse to make sure his weapon was in place. Clarke, who was standing on his right, inched forward. Mulrooney knew his partner was trying to protect him from the media mob. No need to go down with me, buddy. Let "em take their best shot!
No need to go down with me, buddy. Let "em take their best shot!Clarke gently pushed the microphone away from Mulrooney"s face. “Give us a little room, will ya" folks?” he suggested, in a manner that sounded downright friendly. His speech was still garbled, but his body language was clear.
The reporter from the Press Telegram was not to be deterred. “If Mrs. Connolly is wanted for questioning, how did she manage to flee to Sydney without your knowledge?”
Press TelegramClarke stepped farther for
