"The sergeant's already doing that, sir," said the one who had spoken before. "Meanwhile, maybe we better go out and have a little talk with the guy."
"Take it easy, he may be a perfectly respectable citizen."
"Yes, sir," he said. "We'll just ask him a few questions."
They left, and I noticed that the Duke was looking rather puzzled, but he didn't ask any questions, so I couldn't answer any.
The intercom lit up, and I flipped the switch. "Yes?"
"I just checked up on the witness," said the sergeant. "No record. His identification checks out O.K. Thomas H. Wilson, an executive at the City-Chemical Bank; lives on Central Park West. The lab says that the driver of the car wore gloves."
"Thank Wilson for his information, let him go, and tell him we'll call him if we need him. Lay it on thick about what a good citizen he is. Make him happy."
"Right."
I switched off and started to say something to my guest, but the intercom lit up again. "Yeah?"
"Got a call-in from Officer McCaffery, the beat man on Broadway between 108th and 112th. He's got a lead on the guy you're looking for."