Chapter 5
THOUGH he was hungry, Cellini Smith gave scant attention to the breaded veal. He was worried. He had hoped to garner a few soft dollars, investigating a simple homicide with a minimum effort. But the thing was more complex than he had imagined, complex and more untidy. For every question answered, two rose to take its place. And all for $26.94!
The thought of money reminded Cellini that it was Bornaman who gave or loaned twenty thousand dollars to Meade. Why? If that talisman that Meade had pawned at Uncle Max's was any indication, then those little pockets hidden away inside of Danny's clothing had contained more of the same. How did a hobo come to carry such valuable ice? And, if so, what had happened to it? Then there was the other detective who, Bornaman claimed, was asking
