The four men looked at one another. "A costume," said the one named Roberts, the reporter. "My God, a costume."
"Yes, sir," said Judy. "It was all black and gold. Tight black pants and a yellow shirt and a black cape and a funny kind of mask that covered his face, black and gold. And a kind of cap like maybe a skull cap on his head, black, only it was knit. Like the sailors wear in the Merchant Marine."
"Black and gold," said Roberts. He seemed awed by something.
"So you can't identify this boy at all," said Stevenson forlornly.
"One of the other kids called him Eddie," she said, suddenly remembering.
They spent fifteen minutes more with her, going over the same ground again and again, but she just didn't have any more to tell them. And finally they let her go.
Mr. Featherhall and Miss English were distant but courteous. It was, after all, banking hours. On the other hand, these four men were police and FBI, on official business.
"It has been a rather long time," Featherhall objected gently. "Well over four months."
"It seemed to me," said Miss English, "that the police took the names of all the people who'd been here at the time of the robbery."