"Jones was trying to disarm Johnson." Lieutenant Anderson and the men from homicide looked at him, then turned to look at Grave Digger and Coffin Ed in turn. "It was like this," Coffin Ed said. "One of the punks turned up his ass and fatted toward me and-" Anderson said, "Huh!" and the homicide lieutenant said incredulously, "You killed a man for farting?" "No, it was another punk he shot," Grave Digger said in his toneless voice. "One who threw perfume on him from a bottle. He thought it was acid the punk was throwing." They looked at Coffin Ed's acid-burnt face and looked away embarrassedly. "The fellow who was killed is an Arab," the sergeant said. "That's just a disguise," Grave Digger said. "They belong to a group of teenage gangsters who call themselves Real Cool Moslems." "Hah!" the homicide lieutenant said. "Mostly they fight a teenage gang of Jews from The Bronx," Grave Digger elaborated. "We leave that to the welfare people." The homicide sergeant stepped over to the Arab corpse and removed the turban and peeled off the artificial beard. The face of a colored youth with slick conked hair and beardless cheeks stared up. He dropped the disguises beside the corpse and sighed. "Just a baby," he said. For a moment no one spoke. Then the homicide lieutenant asked, "You have the homicide gun?" Grave Digger took it from his pocket, holding the barrel by the thumb and first finger, and gave it to him. The lieutenant examined it curiously for some moments. Then he wrapped it in his handkerchief and slipped it into his coat pocket. "Had you questioned the suspect?" he asked. "We hadn't gotten to it," Grave Digger said. "All we know is the homicide grew out of a rumpus at the Dew Drop Inn." "That's a bistro a couple of blocks up the street," Anderson said. "They had a cutting there a short time earlier." "It's been a hot time in the old town tonight," Haggerty said.