Chapter 9
"There's the house," said Burt Porter. "Just pull up. Let's drink a little more first." He passed the bottle to Anslinger when the car had stopped. That man took a long swig of bourbon. Then he passed the bottle back to Burt. "You finish it," said Porter, "I just wanna think about this for a minute."
"Don't get serious now, Burt." said Leonard Anslinger. "She's been actin' like a tramp for a long time. You got to take thing in hand, ya know? You give your little girl one little lesson like this, and then she won't fool around with no bad guys ever again. You know?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Burt Porter. "But I don't know what she's doin' in there ... "
"We can find out, can't we?" said Anslinger.
"How?"
"We'll sneak up and look through the windows. If she's just in there having a glass of wine or somethin', we'll leave her be. Otherwise, you make up your own mind. How's that sound?"
"Sure," said Burt Porter. "Why not." He passed the half-empty fifth of bourbon back to Leonard, "Bring this. I have a hunch we're gonna need it."
They got out of the car and moved up towards the house in which Porter's daughter was suspected of being in. In a matter of a few seconds they'd found a window to use so that they could look in without being seen either from the street or from within.
"Go on," said Leonard. "That's why we came here—look! See your daughter." He drank from the bourbon bottle while Burt Porter stomped around in the bushes and pressed his nose against the glass.