Mr. Belin. Do you remember anything about the color of his hair?
Mr. Fischer. His hair seemed to be—uh—neither light nor dark; possibly a light—well, possibly a—well, it was a brown was what it was; but as to whether it was light or dark, I can't say.
Mr. Belin. Did he have a thick head of hair or did he have a receding hair-line—or couldn't you tell?
Mr. Fischer. I couldn't tell. He couldn't have had very long hair, because his hair didn't seem to take up much space—of what I could see of his head. His hair must have been short and not long.
Mr. Belin. Well, did you see a full view of his face or more of a profile of it, or what was it?
Mr. Fischer. I saw it at an angle but, at the same time, I could see—I believe I could see the tip of his right cheek as he looked to my left.
Mr. Belin. Now, could you be anything more definite as to what direction he was looking at?
Mr. Fischer. He looked to me like he was looking straight at the triple underpass.
Mr. Belin. Down what street?
Mr. Fischer. Elm Street.