"How fast can you get the dope?" Malone said.
"I don't exactly know," Fernack said. "The last time anything even remotely like this was run through—departmental survey, but you wouldn't be interested—it took something like eight hours."
"Fine," Malone said. "Eight hours then. I'll look everything over and if we need a second run-through it won't take too long. I'll let you know as soon as I can about that." He grinned into the phone.
Fernack cleared his throat and asked delicately: "Mind telling me what all this is for?"
Malone offered up a little prayer before answering, and when he did answer it was in his softest and most friendly tones: "I'd rather not say just now, John Henry."
"But Malone—" Fernack's voice sounded a little strained, and his jaw set just a trifle. "If you—"
Malone knew perfectly well how Fernack reacted when he didn't get a bit of information he wanted. And this was no time to set off any fireworks in the commissioner's office. "Look, John Henry," he said gently, "I'll tell you as soon as I can. Honest. But this is classified information—it's not my fault."
Fernack said: "But—" and apparently realized that argument was not going to do him any good. "All right, Malone," he said at last. "I'll have it for you as soon as possible."
"Great," Malone said. "Then I'll see you later."
"Sure," Fernack said. He paused, as if he were about to open the controversy just once more. But all he said was: "So long, Malone."