"Sure thing," said the chief. "He's one of the most reliable men on the force, and when he says a thing, he knows it."
Carroll stroked his beardless chin. There was a hard, calculating light in his eyes—eyes which alternated between a soft, friendly blue and a steely gray. Finally he looked up at Leverage.
"What's your idea, Eric?"
"About him sendin' word he was out when we know he ain't?"
"Exactly."
"It looks darn funny to me, Carroll! 'Pears like he didn't want to discuss the affair with us."
"He don't know who we are."
"He can guess pretty well. Any guy with a head on his shoulders knows the valet of a murdered man is going to be quizzed by the police."
"Good! Come on."
Carroll put a firm hand on the knob and turned it. Then he stepped into the dingy reception hall, followed by the city's chief of police.