Carl popped another Camel non filtered between his lips. Talking around the cigarette, and over the the sound of lighter, he said "You ain't got nothin to be sorry about."  He snapped the lighters lid closed with a loud metallic click and shoved it into his pocket. She didn't sound very convinced that her husband was OK, but he understood her reluctance. He lifted the cone shaped receiver from it's hook on the candlestick phone. With his other hand he dialed O for operator then picked up the bottom half of the phone.   As he raised the ear piece to his ear, he spoke into the mouthpiece. In a firm confident voice he said "Operator?  Get me the fourteenth precinct. Homicide."<br/><br/>While he waited for the connection, he turned towards Jessica.  Cigarette still dangling from his lips, he said "I'll be right here ma'am..."   "This is Carlton Hammer. You gotta stiff in the bakery. Yeah.  Five twelve Main. Yeah..   Thats right. A dame almost bought it too.  No, she didn't see nothin.  Ok.".   With that, he set the phone down and took a drag off the Camel. He  blew a thin stream of smoke upwards towards the ceiling fan, trying to be respectful. "They'll be here in a jiffy."<br/><br/>He stood in the middle of the room for several moments, indecisive. Finally, he walked over to the coat rack and dug the little Browning from his jacket pocket. He wasn't worried about fingerprints for two reasons. First, he knew that getting good fingerprints off of pistols usually only worked on the radio programs. Second, he had no intention of the cops ever finding this one, so it didn't matter anyway.<br/><br/>He turned it over in his hand, inspecting and admiring the old pistol.  Then he walked over to where Jessica was sitting on the couch. With two fingers looped through the trigger guard, he held the pistol up, hanging upside down from his fingers. About as non threatening as it gets. "Mrs. Davidson, have you ever seen this before?"