“For what?”
“Never mind. Get in.”
I got in. He slammed the door shut and poured speed into the car.
“Can’t you tell me where we’re going?” I asked.
“Not now. I don’t want to question you, and I don’t want any statements from you until I’m sure of my ground. When I’m sure of it, I’m going to give you a chance to come clean.”
I settled back against the cushions and yawned.
Sergeant Sellers turned on the siren, and we really started making time through the frozen traffic.
“Must be an emergency,” I said.
He grinned. “I just hate to plod along behind a stream of Sunday drivers. It does them good to hear a siren once in a while. Makes ’em get over. They — damn the guy!”
Sellers whipped the car into a skid, barely avoided a chap who had swung out, trying to pass another car.