I sketched in a little. The men listened.
Black said, "I could send a cruise car up for her—and get her back here—"
I shook my head. "I suspect—he'd bail out for sure, then. His life plan was based on the idea that what she had been—would be rubbed out. Forgotten. If you understand. But she went back to work."
"The higher they are the harder they fall!" Black was grimly amused at the accuracy of the cliché.
And the younger cop said, "It isn't possible to be smart all ways at once, is it?"
"What do we do?" I asked.
He looked at me some more. "Take a shower and put on dry clothes, Mr. Wylie. We'll figure for a while. These things can last hours."
I did that.
They didn't figure much.