"I know very well what you've been talking about. Everybody is. I've got news for you, Gregg." He went abruptly solemn and lowered his voice. "Halsey wants to see us, right away."
I regarded him blankly and my mind swept back. No more than a few short weeks ago Detective-Colonel Halsey of Divisional Headquarters here in Greater New York had sent for us, and we had been precipitated into the Grantline affair. "Halsey!" I burst out.
"Easy, Gregg." Snap cast a vague look around Anita's draped apartment. An open window was beside us, leading to a tiny catwalk balcony. It was moonlit now, and two hundred feet above the pedestrian viaduct.
But Snap continued to frown. "Easy, I tell you. Why shout about Halsey? The air can have ears."
Venza moved and closed and sealed the window.
"What is it?" I asked, more softly.
But Snap was not satisfied. "Anita, do you have a complete isolation barrage for this room?"
"Of course I haven't, Snap."
"Well, Gregg do you have a detector with you?"
I had none. Snap produced his little coil and indicator dial. "It's out of order, but let's see now. Shove over that chair, Gregg."