``Maybe you'd better tell the guy who hired you what I said.''

``You tell him.''

``All right,'' Calenda said, his voice still quiet. ``But I meant what I said, Casey. If that picture gets around and I find out you had anything to do with it, I'm going to send a couple of my boys around to see you.''

``You do that,'' Casey said. ``Just be sure to send your two best boys, Tony.''

He hung up with a bang, annoyed at himself for running off at the mouth like that but still terribly concerned with the situation he had helped to create. As soon as he could think logically again he reached for the telephone directory and found Jerry Burton's home number. He dialed it and listened to it ring ten times before he hung up. He called the bar and grill where he had picked Burton up that afternoon. When he was told that no one had seen Burton since then, he thought of three other places that were possibilities. Each time he got the same answer and in the end he gave up.

By the time he had smoked three cigarettes he had calmed down. He had done all he could and that was that. And anyway Burton was not the kind of guy who would be likely to get in trouble even when he was drunk. He, Casey, had been scared for a while, but that had come mostly from the fact that he felt responsible. He should have stayed here and watched Burton. He didn't. So he made a mistake. So what?

He kept telling himself this as he went out to the kitchen to make a drink. Only then did he decide he didn't want one. He considered opening a can of beer but vetoed that idea too. Finally he went into the bedroom and sat down to take off his shoes. He had just finished unlacing the right one when the telephone rang again. When he snatched it up the voice that came to him was quick and urgent.