‘Baird did that?’
‘That’s right. Do you know Hater?’
She jerked up her head and looked defiantly at Dallas.
‘Of course I know him. He was my father.’
Before Dallas could collect his startled wits, a patrolman with an elderly woman came quickly across the street towards Olin.
‘Lieutenant,’ the patrolman said, ‘this woman says she’s seen Baird.’
‘Where?’ Olin demanded, turning to the woman.
‘He was going to the top floor of my house,’ the woman said excitedly. ‘A big man; he seemed ill, and he was carrying a gun.’
‘Where’s your house?’
‘No. 30. That’s it over there,’ and she pointed.