Donovan turned to watch him. He saw Adams frown, then he said, “This is Lieutenant Adams, City Police, talking. Who are you?”
Donovan heard a click on the line and Adams hung up, shrugging.
“One of her mashers, I guess,” Adams said. “He certainly got off the line in a hurry.”
Donovan snatched up the receiver, called the operator and said urgently, “This is the police. Trace that call and snap it up.”
Adams stared at him his eyes disapproving.
“What’s the idea? You don’t imagine the killer’s going to call this number, do you?”
“I want to know who called,” Donovan said obstinately.
The operator broke in. “The call came from the Eastern National Bank: from a pay booth.”
“Thanks, sister,” Donovan said, and hung up.
He went back to the telephone bell.