Hanline said: “If you don’t mind, I’m going back downstairs and get some sleep. I was out pretty late last night.”
“Sure.” Kells glanced at Gowdy.
Kells and Hanline went out, down the elevator. Hanline got off at the fifth floor. Kells stopped at the desk, asked for the house detective. The clerk pointed out a heavy, dull-eyed man who sat reading a paper near the door. Kells went over to him, said: “You needn’t hold the man Fenner was going to file charges against.”
The house detective put down his paper. He said: “Hell, he was gone when I got upstairs. There wasn’t nobody there but Mister Dillon.”
Kells said: “Oh.” He scratched the back of his head. “How’s Dillon?”
“He’ll be all right.” Kells went out and got into a cab.
Ansel’s turned out to be a dark, three-story business block set flush with the sidewalk. There were big For Rent signs in the plate-glass windows and there was a dark stairway at one side.
Kells told the cab driver to wait, went upstairs.
Someone opened a small window in a big heavily timbered door, surveyed him dispassionately.
Kells said: “I want to see Ansel.”