I thanked him. He had a pretty good grip on his business because the woman suddenly hung up and stepped out of the booth. She nodded to the soda-jerker and went out into the Street.
“What they find to talk about,” he began, leaning on the counter, but I didn’t wait to hear any more. I shut myself in with the telephone and put a call through to the Recorder.
Harriet was tied up with Mr. Maddox, I was told.
“Well, can’t you send someone in to cut her loose?” I demanded. “This is important.”
“How important would you say?” the switchboard girl asked. She didn’t sound impressed.
“Her apartment’s on fire and her old man’s trapped up on the roof,” I lied. “If that’s important to you, I guess you might do something about it.”
“I can’t interrupt Mr. Maddox for that,” she replied. “How long has he been upon the roof?”
I would have liked to have been right behind that baby. I’d have surprised her.
“Look,” I said. “It doesn’t matter how long he’s been up there. The point is the place is on fire and he gets dizzy when he’s high up. He wants to see his daughter before anything happens to him.”
“Well, I’ll tell her when she’s through with Mr. Maddox,” the girl replied curtly and rang off.