“She put me up to it,” Mercer said, a scowl on his dark face. “She’s the real murderer. All I done was pull the trigger. She said we had to kill him, said it was the only way. We threw the others in just to make it look good, just to make it look as if a cop hater was loose. But it was her idea. Why should I take the rap alone?” “Whose idea?” Carella asked. “Alice’s,” Mercer said. “You see…We wanted to make it look like a cop hater. We wanted—”
