"Tell him we'll be right over. Where is he?"
The sergeant told me, and I cut off.
I took out my gun and spun the cylinder, checking it from force of habit more than anything else, since I always check and clean it once a day, anyhow. I slid it back into its holster and turned to the Duke, who was already on his feet.
"Did the Commissioner give you a Special Badge?" I asked him.
"Yes, he did." He pulled it out of his inside pocket and showed it to me.
"Good. I'll have the sergeant fill out a temporary pistol permit, and—"
"I don't have a pistol, Inspector," he said. "I—"
"That's all right; we'll issue you one. We can—"
He shook his head. "Thanks, I'd rather not. I've never used a pistol except when I've gone out after a criminal who is known to be armed and dangerous. I don't think Lawrence Nestor is very dangerous to adult males, and I doubt that he's armed." He hefted the walking stick he'd been carrying. "This will do nicely, thank you."
The way he said it was totally inoffensive, but it made me feel as though I were about to go out rabbit hunting with an elephant gun. "Force of habit," I said. "In New York, a cop would feel naked without a gun. But I assure you that I have no intention of shooting Mr. Nestor unless he takes a shot at me first."