got his eye on himself.” Elmer said, “That little birdie told me something else.” Satterlee sighed. “You confide to a woman in the sack, and it’s on the Teletype within twenty-four hours.” “Sex shakes. You want to put the squeeze on some Fifth Column geeks.” “Es la verdad, daddy.” Elmer said, “I’ve got a fuck spot, all wired up. Right on Wilshire, upside the tar pits. Wall peek—the whole deal.” “I’ll take it. It puts you in contention for White Man of the Week honors.” Elmer
