You like it in jail?' 'It's not too bad. You don't meet the best people, but who the hell wants to? - Raymond Chandler

I lit a cigarette and dragged a smoking stand beside the chair. The minutes went by on tiptoe, with their fingers to their lips. I looked the place over. You can't tell anything about an outfit like that. They might be making millions, and they might have the sheriff in the back room, with his chair tilted against the safe.

The house itself was not so much. It was smaller than Buckingham Palace, rather gray for California, and probably had fewer windows than the Chrysler Building.

I knew one thing: as soon as anyone said you didn’t need a gun, you’d better take one along that worked.