Such clothes as I had on were soaked clear through again. I was thinking about changing when the door knocked and the cop stood there with some other men—in and out of uniforms.
"He's moved."
"I know."
"We can't get at him good, there. A net won't be possible. We've got some guys looking over the picture on the roof. But it's risky. Twice, that squad has gotten a line around somebody—and had them get loose and go. One bird threw the rope off before they could pull it tight. And a woman cut it while she was hanging over the street. Can we come in?"
I opened the door. They looked at me. "My name's Black," one said. "Captain—your precinct." He introduced the rest the way an undertaker presents pallbearers to each other. They all went over near the windows and knelt and peeked furtively at Paul.
"Should I stay out there?" I asked.
The tough, bright-looking cop gave me the once-over. "High-shy?"
"Some."
"Do you think he's likely to go?"
"Christ knows! I'm not an expert in this sort of thing."