"O.K. with me, Sam." As I said, Kleek is a good cop in spite of his "system."
"The boys are out making the rounds," he went on, "bringing in all the men with conviction records and questioning the others. And we're combing the neighborhood for the kid's clothes. They might still be around somewhere. Shultz'll keep you posted."
"Fine, Sam. Happy hunting in High Society."
"Thanks, Roy. Take it easy."
At fifteen of eleven, the Police Commissioner called. He spent ten minutes telling me that I was going to be visited by a VIP and giving me exact instructions on how to handle the man. "I'm depending on you to take care of him, Roy," he said finally. "If we can get this program operating in other places, it will help us a lot. And if you need help from my office, grab the nearest phone."
"I'll do my best," I promised him. "And thanks, sir."
The Commissioner was a lawyer, not a cop, so he wasn't as tied to the system as Kleek and the others were. He was backing me all the way.
I punched Sergeant Vanney's number on the intercom. "Inspector Royall here, Sergeant. Do me a favor."
"Yes, sir."
"Go down to the library and get me a copy of Burke's 'Peerage.'"