«Jackson, you've sure got a dirty mouth. But I think you're right this time. Only it's two cocks, not one?»

«Two? Well, no wonder Lucy hangs around with this long-hair! He's really somethin' special!»

«No, stupid. The other cock's attached to one J. Marlowe.»

«The big clothing manufacturer who was in Newsweek a while back? He's the one with factories all over the world … wherever there's cheap labor.»

«Honestly, Turner, you surprise me. I didn't know you read anything heavier than comic books.»

The black officer laughed and took a pack of cigarettes from the glove compartment, not offering his partner one because Manners was a non- smoker. «Not all us niggers is dumb, boss man,» he said with a thick plantation accent.

«Yeah? Then if you're so smart, figure out the rest of the story yourself.» They were turning into the country club driveway for a sweep through the parking lot, always a good spot for catching a couple of late-neckers with their pants down.

«No, you tell me … it's getting more interesting all the time.»

«Actually, there's not much more to tell. At least, not until I get the latest rumors from Flaherty. It seems that young Lucy was sort of attached to her father, maybe more than is natural for a girl her age, and she doesn't like the idea of Daddy's widow with a new boyfriend … Jerry Marlowe in the flesh.»

«Aha, the ol' Electra complex rears its ugly head!»

«Jeez, Turner, you're a pretty smart fellow! How come you're a cop?» Just then their number came across on the radio: disorderly conduct at an all-night service station. «Probably a fist-fight … better get ready for a little action!» He down-shifted the powerful Mercury and it belched with a throaty roar as they left Valley Farms in a cloud of taxpayers' rubber. The doughnuts would have to wait.