“No, just that,” she said.
Mason hung up the telephone, and said, “Serle’s out. — That was your office on the line.”
“Where did the report originate?” Drake asked.
“Your operative twelve.”
Drake said, “Well, there you are, Perry. They could have thrown the book at him a dozen different ways. He’s out walking the streets. That means he did just what the D.A. wanted him to.”
Mason said, “I want to get in touch with this bird. How can we fix it up so it seems casual?”
“We can’t,” Drake said.
“Sure we can,” Mason insisted. “What are his personal habits? How well do you know them?”
“We’ve covered him up one side and down the other,” Drake said.
Mason looked at his watch, drummed with his fingers, and abruptly inquired, “Does he eat lunch, Paul?”