"Swell. She's all excited about going to the Art Ball tonight—that's why I didn't want to disappoint her."
"Slow up, son," I told him, "you've already made your pitch and been accepted. You'll get your fifty, so don't push it. Want to come down here and pick it up?"
"Can do. And have I told you that you'll be invited to the wedding?"
"Thanks, pal. Can I give the groom away?" It was a family joke that we'd kicked back and forth ever since he had met Mary Ellen, two years before.
"Sure thing. See you in a couple of hours. Bye, Dad." He cut off, and I looked at the Duke.
"Sorry. Now, you were saying?"
"Perfectly all right." He smiled. "I have two of my own at home.
"At any rate, I was saying that the Criminal Investigation Department of New Scotland Yard has become interested in this experiment of yours, so I was sent over to get all the first-hand information I can. Frankly, I volunteered for the job; I was eager to come. There are plenty of skeptics at the Yard, I'll admit, but I'm not one of them. If the thing's workable, I want to see it used in England."
Here was another man who wasn't tied to the "system."
"D'you mind if I ask some questions?" he said.