“Tabarnak, Frank,” the desk sergeant said, hurrying from behind his desk. He got on the other side of the young man Dzinski was propping up, and let them to an office in the back. Bare except for a couple of cots and an overfilled ashtray. They set him down and went into the hallway.
“T’aurais pu juste l’enterrer, au lieu de l’amener mourir icit.”
“He’ll be fine,” Dzinski said. “He was reluctant to come in for questioning.”
“Y’a l’air prêt à participer là.”
“You remember the girl I found? He spent the evening with her.”
“Reste là, j’appelle le capitaine.”
A Bunch of Dumb Words in a Row 