“Where?”
He looked around the big hall. Standing, half-concealed by one of the pillars, was a tall, heavily built man in a brown suit and a brown slouch hat.
He did look like a cop. His big fleshy face was brick-red and his small, green eyes had a still, intent quality about them that alarmed Ken.
“He must be a cop,” Parker said, lowering his voice.
Ken didn’t say anything. He watched the big man cross the hall to the pay booth.
“Do you think anyone saw me use the telephone?” Parker muttered.
“I don’t know. It’s out of sight of the door.”
“If he asks me I’ll tell him I called my wife, but I couldn’t get an answer.”
“He may not ask you.”
“I hope to hell he doesn’t.”