Casey glared at
her. "Dammit, Florence Cleary, I told you not to ask me that," he
snapped. And he was so peeved at her, he sulked intermittently the rest of the
trip, or at least until they put on their bathing costumes at Nantasket Beach
and Casey got to see the flesh of Flossie's ankles.
alighted at Boston's new Park Square Terminal that afternoon. What a ride:
mile-a-minute, throttle out; a sumptuous meal; exquisite comfort and service.
At the Parker House his suite was ready, but before going up, Fox asked the
telephone traffic operator, the hello girl, to ring up the Third Base Saloon at
940 Columbus Avenue. After a moment a voice came on. "Hello," it
"I'd like to
talk to Mr. McGreevey," Fox said.
"This is Nuf
Ced. Who's this?" "This is Richard Fox...of the Police
There was a pause
on the other end, and Michael T. McGreevey, known by one and all as Nuf Ced,
clearly let fly into a spittoon. "I don't know if I want to talk to
"Maybe he is.
Maybe he isn't."
Ced, I'm trying to make a lot of money for Sullivan. Tell 'im I came to Boston,
ain't in Boston."
he get back?"