Mr. Paul. Oh, about 11:30 or about—about 12 o’clock, maybe a quarter of 12, and I was in bed and I told him he woke me up, and he was telling me that nobody downtown did any business on account of that, and I said to him, “Jack, I’m sick. Please don’t call me no more.”
Mr. Hubert. Was he rather sore at you because you kept your place open?
Mr. Paul. Not especially. I don’t think so. I didn’t see him after that.
Mr. Hubert. Did he mention to you that he had gone to the Pago Club, in any of those calls at all?
Mr. Paul. No, sir.
Mr. Hubert. He never mentioned that to you whatsoever?
Mr. Paul. No; he never mentioned it to me. If I’m not with him, he don’t tell me where he goes.
Mr. Hubert. Did he ever tell you that he had been to the police department on Friday night and had been up in the showup room and so forth?
Mr. Paul. No; but he told me that he brought some coffee over, I think, Saturday night, to the KLIF diskjockeys in the conversation.
Mr. Hubert. Did he ever talk to you about the Bernard Weissman advertisement that he was so upset about?