Conrad ran out to meet the car, waving his hands.
The car pulled up and Bardin, looking hot and irritable, scowled out of the window.
“How are you getting on?” he demanded. “Found the car yet?”
“Shut that damned siren off!” Conrad snapped. “Do you want to scare those two hoods into action?”
Bardin got out of the car as the sergeant driver flicked off the siren.
“Well, come on. Did you find the car?”
“There’re about ten thousand blasted cars in here. Get your men spread out and searching. Any more coming?”
“A couple of wagons just behind. The Captain will raise hell when he hears I’ve pulled out the reserve.”
“If this girl gets killed, the D.A. will raise all the hell McCann will ever want! Get your men into action!”
“Hey! Wait a minute,” Bardin said, putting his hand on Conrad’s arm. “Look who’s coming,” and he jerked his thumb towards a tall young fellow with a crew hair-cut, who was wearing a red-patterned shirt outside his trousers. In his arms he held a collection of dolls, vases and boxes of candy. By his side walked a blonde girl in a white sports frock. “Think those are the two we’re looking for?”