Chapter 10
Tender Behind
IT WAS ALMOST three o’clock when I reached Suite B. Mick O’Rourke was lying on the bed, legs spread, and reading the comic section of what happened to be an old Sunday paper. He chuckled and let it drop to the floor as I closed the door behind me and stood looking at his big figure.
“It ain’t so good as Mickey Mouse,” he stated cheerfully. “Pa falls out of an airplane right down to his own house. And there’s Ma— waitin’ on the roof with a rolling pin.”
I leaned against the door and nodded my head a little.
“That’s a lot better than falling out of a yacht into the Tombs,” I said.
Mick stopped grinning. He shook his head from side to side and made clicking sounds.
“I feel pretty sorry for Vennell, Al,” he muttered. “And that stroke, Harron, too.”
I said: “Do
