CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Tony pulled up outside the taxi company’s premises. The once pale blue sky was becoming a darker, with streaks of purple gathering on the horizon. Cloud formations had begun to taint the once clear heavens. The evening would be a cold one, but the night had been promised to be dry. The front passenger door opened, and Coreman got in. Tony said nothing at first. In fact, he didn’t even look around to acknowledge the new detective, for his gaze was on the cab company’s garages, and he was watching the vehicles coming and going.
They were looking for a Checker Sedan: a big old car used back in the ’50s through to the ’80s. The sort of car you expect to see in an old movie or cruising around Cuba or some other place south of the border. Tony didn’t need a picture. He had o
