"Offhand," said Sergt. Kuzick of the first precinct, "offhand, I can't
think of any stories for you. If you give me a little time, maybe I could
think of one or two. What you want, I suppose, is some story as I know
about from personal experience. Like the time, for instance, that the
half-breed Indian busted out of the bridewell, where he was serving a six
months' sentence, and snuck home and killed his wife and went back again
to the bridewell, and they didn't find out who killed her until he got
drunk a year later and told a bartender about it. That's the kind you
want, ain't it?"