Ken stepped quickly back.
A narrow alley between two houses offered a way of escape, and he went down the alley which ran parallel to the main street. By climbing over several walls and crossing several backyards, he came eventually out into the main street again, but this time well behind the crowd and the police cordon.
His one thought now was to find a telephone booth and get into touch with Adams. Further up the street he spotted a lighted drug store, and he made his way towards it.
The drug store was deserted. The white-coated clerk stood on the kerb, staring down the street at the police cordon. He was too absorbed in what was going on to notice Ken, and Ken entered the store and shut himself in the telephone booth by the door.
He called police headquarters.
“Lieutenant Adams,” he said when he got his connection.
“The Lieutenant’s not here,” a voice told him. “Who is it?”
“This is an urgent personal call,” Ken said. “Can you give me his home number please?”
“You’ll find it in the book,” the voice growled, and the line went dead.
Ken flicked through the pages of the telephone book and found Adams’ private number. After some delay me operator told him there was no answer.