He leaned forward and buzzed the intercom button on the rosewood desk. Called Baker back in.
“You are under arrest for murder,” he said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used as evidence against you. You have the right to representation by an attorney. Should you be unable to afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you by the State of Georgia free of charge. Do you understand these rights?”
“Come on, Finlay, move along,” I said. I had less than a half hour.
His small snake eyes flicked around. He was adrift and worried.
SEEMED LIKE MORE OR LESS STRAIGHTAWAY THE GUY WAS banging on the door with the early morning call. Tuesday. We got up and staggered around. The early sun was struggling against a damp dawn. Within five minutes we were back in the Bentley rolling east. The rising sun was blinding on the dewy windshield.
“So what are you going to do about Joe?” Roscoe asked me.