Accompanied by Bailey Brooks, he went away. As soon as the footsteps receded, Doyle turned angrily to Flash.
“You might have said something instead of standing there like a clam! Here the Captain is a good friend of yours. He could have passed us into Melveredge Field.”
“The Captain isn’t a friend of mine.”
“Then why did you bring him here?”
“You must have observed for yourself, Doyle. To look at those pictures.”
The technician picked up the stack and glanced through the prints.
“What’s all this about anyway?” he demanded. “Why would the Captain be interested?”
Flash made an evasive answer which only irritated Doyle further. Despite the technician’s displeasure, he had no intention of taking him into his confidence.
“I’m tired,” he said shortly. “Let’s go to bed.”
It was dark in the hotel room when Flash awakened to hear the telephone ringing. Struggling out of sleep, he reached to roll up the window shade. A few carts were creaking by on the street below. The sky was barely light.