“There must be ten thousand punks who’re wearing their shirts like that right in this park,” Conrad growled, “but I’ll ask him.” He strode up to Buster Walker. “You just come from Lennox Avenue?” he demanded, and felt a little shrill crawl up his spine at Buster’s look of blank astonishment.
“Why, sure,” Buster said. “How did you know?”
Conrad looked at Bunty.
“You Miss Boyd?”
“Yes,” Bunty said blankly.
Conrad signalled to Bardin, who joined them.
“These are the two. You’d better handle it, Sam.”
Bardin flashed his buzzer.
“I’m Lieutenant Bardin, City Police. Where’s Miss Coleman?”
“Frankie?” Buster gaped at him. “What do you want her for? What’s the idea?”