“Did Schwartz send you to tell me this?” “Who?” “You needn’t play dumb. Otto Schwartz.” He gargled the words. “If he sent you, you can take a message back for me. Tell him to take a running jump in the Truckee River and do us all a favor.” I got up. Instinctively, one of Lemberg’s arms rose to guard his face. The gesture told a lot about him and his background. “Your brother’s in very bad trouble. So are you. He drove down south to do a murder yesterday. You provided the car. “I didn’t know whah—” His jaw hung open, and then clicked shut. “Who are you?”
