"Look, Stacey. Can you tell me whether the man who clipped me turned up with scratches on his face?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"Just a loose end."
"I might be able to find out."
"Take a swing at it; but it's not too important."
"Okay, Paul. Have I given you something to think about?"
"More than," said Paul soberly. He hung up, turned, and saw the guard of the previous evening standing near by, about to go on duty. Paul went over and asked: "Hi!"
"Hello. Say, I'm sorry about last night—"
"Forget it, you were doing your duty. But can you tell me: Did the guy who used my identification last night have any scratches on his face?"
The guard frowned in thought. "All he had was some well-applied make-up, and a fine job it was, too. He looked me right in the eye."