He said, “You don’t want to rule out robbery as the only motive.”

“Fires through the windshield and hits Guy in the mouth,” Raymond said. “I want to meet this robber before he gets into something heavy.”

The acting lieutenant left a few minutes later to find a telephone and report to Inspector Herzog. They did not talk about murder over radios.

Wendell Robinson, in a three-piece light-gray suit, came out of the darkness holding a small brown-paper sack. He said, “You doing any good?… I talk to the woman on Coventry call the nine-eleven? I say, I believe you heard some gunshots. The woman say yeah, and I saw the man done it. Earlier he was out in the alley and I saw him with this gun. I ask her which man is this and she told me he lives down the street, twenty-two five-eleven. I go down there, get the man out of his bed and ask him about a gun he has. Man frowns and squints like he’s trying to get his memory working. Says no, I don’t recall no gun. I say well, the lady down the street saw you with a gun, out’n the alley. You come on downtown we’ll have a witness lineup, see if she can pick you out. The man say oh, that gun. Yeah, old thing I was looking to shoot rats with. Yeah, I found that gun yesterday, right in the same alley.” Wendell held up the bag. “Little froze-up Saturday night piece, blow the man’s hand off he ever fire it.”

“They lie to you,” Hunter said. “They fucking lie right to your face.”

Another man sitting in a car had been shot to death in front of the Soup Kitchen, corner of Franklin and Orleans, and the shooter-they learned later-had waited around to see the police cars and the EMS van arrive before he hopped on a Jefferson Avenue bus and went home.