CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
As usual, the Reporter is a version of bedlam this morning. Reporters writing stories, looking at photos, reading out-of-town newspapers and doing clip and paste. Copy boys are running and telephones ring non-stop.
I call Grasser at home and paint a word picture of the ugly side of Sonny Johnson. The cops have no leads and tomorrow we're into day four and nothing has moved forward.
I have high hopes that something will break on the Johnson case this morning. I want to go after Charlie Andrews, but I know that break or no break, I'm going to have to postpone reaching my target. The reason I knew this absolutely is because of the square envelope laying on my desk. It has a note clipped to it from Specs telling me to follow through.
In the state of Arizona, they send o
