“All right, sir.”
BURKE and his companion were ushered to the steps. As they started to descend, Burke turned suddenly.
“Must have left my notes up there,” he said. He started up the stairs. Before he reached the top, he stopped. “No,” he laughed, “here they are, in my pocket!”
He rejoined the other men and they descended to the street.
Before Crowell left the two reporters, to return upstairs, Burke asked him a single question.
“Will Inspector Zull have anything to say before he leaves?”
“He’ll have something to say,” rejoined Crowell with a grin, “but not to you fellows. He always looks around a while and keeps things to himself. Wants to check up on us, you know.
“He may give me a couple of suggestions. Same with Devlin, who will be here inside half an hour. Devlin was out when we got wind of this. They sent me up ahead.”
With that, Crowell went back into the building.
Burke looked at his companion. The other reporter shrugged his shoulders. Burke drew him to a street lamp. This was an isolated spot, a quiet zone amidst the roar of New York.