Stern now with a disconcerting novelty. The urgency of that situation waved to him like a hand disappearing in the deep, out of reach for the time being.
"How long you gone?" Nogalski asked. "I left very early yesterday."
"You talk to her?"
"I tried last night, but there was no answer. We have a symphony series. I assumed she had gone for coffee afterwards with friends."
"Who spoke to her last, so far as you know?"
Stern deliberated. Peter's shrill manner would quickly antagonize the police.
"My son might have."
"He out there?"
"He is quite emotional at the moment."
Nogalski, for whatever reason, allowed himself a brief, disparaging smile.
"You do that often?" one of the cops behind him asked.
"What is that, Officer?"
"Travel. Out of town?"
"Occasionally it is necessary."
"where'd you stay?" the woman asked. Stern tried not to react to the drift of the questions. The officers, of course, knew by now who he was and reacted accordingly-they despised most criminal defense lawyers, who hindered the police at every turn and were often richly rewarded for their efforts. To the police, this was a natural opportunity chance to pester an adversary and to indulge their customary nasty fancies about foul play and motives.
Maybe the spick was humping his girlfriend in Chi while somebody for hire set this up. You never know unless you ask.
"On this occasion, I was at the Ritz." Stern stood.
"May I go? My son and I have yet to speak with his sisters."
Nogalski was watching him.
"This doesn't make much sense,It was evident he did not believe him. "We haven't found a note yet, you know."
Stern stirred a hand weakly. He could not explain.
"And where have you been?" one of the Cops behind Stern asked.
"Chicago."
"For?"
"Legal business. I met with a number of lawyers." The fact that Dixon might be in very serious difficulties, so sorely troubling only an hour ago, recurred to Stern now with a disconcerting novelty. The urgency of that situation waved to him like a hand disappearing in the deep, out of reach for the time being.
"How long you gone?" Nogalski asked. "I left very early yesterday."
"You talk to her?"
"I tried last night, but there was no answer. We have a symphony series. I assumed she had gone for coffee afterwards with friends."
"Who spoke to her last, so far as you know?"
Stern deliberated. Peter's shrill manner would quickly antagonize the police.
"My son might have."
"He out there?"
"He is quite emotional at the moment."
Nogalski, for whatever reason, allowed himself a brief, disparaging smile.
"You do that often?" one of the cops behind him asked.
"What is that, Officer?"
"Travel. Out of town?"
"Occasionally it is necessary."
"where'd you stay?" the woman asked. Stern tried not to react to the drift of the questions. The officers, of course, knew by now who he was and reacted accordingly-they despised most criminal defense lawyers, who hindered the police at every turn and were often richly rewarded for their efforts. To the police, this was a natural opportunity chance to pester an adversary and to indulge their customary nasty fancies about foul play and motives.
Maybe the spick was humping his girlfriend in Chi while somebody for hire set this up. You never know unless you ask.
"On this occasion, I was at the Ritz." Stern stood.
"May I go? My son and I have yet to speak with his sisters."
Nogalski was watching him.
"This doesn't make much sense," said the detective. It made no sense, the man said. This was his professional opinion.
Stern looked intently at Nogalski. It was one of the hazards of Stern's calling that he seldom felt grateful to the police.
Coming back down the hall, Stern could hear Peter's voice.
He was carrying on about something. The same ruddy-faced cop who had shown Stern into the garage was listening impassively. Stern took his son by the elbow to draw him away. This was intolerable. Intolerable!
Some tough element of resistance within him was wearing
"How long you gone?" Nogalski asked. "I left very early yesterday."
"You talk to her?"
"I tried last night, but there was no answer. We have a symphony series. I assumed she had gone for coffee afterwards with friends."
"Who spoke to her last, so far as you know?"
Stern deliberated. Peter's shrill manner would quickly antagonize the police.
"My son might have."
"He out there?"
"He is quite emotional at the moment."
Nogalski, for whatever reason, allowed himself a brief, disparaging smile.
"You do that often?" one of the cops behind him asked.
"What is that, Officer?"
"Travel. Out of town?"
"Occasionally it is necessary."
"where'd you stay?" the woman asked. Stern tried not to react to the drift of the questions. The officers, of course, knew by now who he was and reacted accordingly-they despised most criminal defense lawyers, who hindered the police at every turn and were often richly rewarded for their efforts. To the police, this was a natural opportunity chance to pester an adversary and to indulge their customary nasty fancies about foul play and motives.
Maybe the spick was humping his girlfriend in Chi while somebody for hire set this up. You never know unless you ask.
"On this occasion, I was at the Ritz." Stern stood.
"May I go? My son and I have yet to speak with his sisters."
Nogalski was watching him.
"This doesn't make much sense,It was evident he did not believe him. "We haven't found a note yet, you know."
Stern stirred a hand weakly. He could not explain.
"And where have you been?" one of the Cops behind Stern asked.
"Chicago."
"For?"
"Legal business. I met with a number of lawyers." The fact that Dixon might be in very serious difficulties, so sorely troubling only an hour ago, recurred to Stern now with a disconcerting novelty. The urgency of that situation waved to him like a hand disappearing in the deep, out of reach for the time being.
"How long you gone?" Nogalski asked. "I left very early yesterday."
"You talk to her?"
"I tried last night, but there was no answer. We have a symphony series. I assumed she had gone for coffee afterwards with friends."
"Who spoke to her last, so far as you know?"
Stern deliberated. Peter's shrill manner would quickly antagonize the police.
"My son might have."
"He out there?"
"He is quite emotional at the moment."
Nogalski, for whatever reason, allowed himself a brief, disparaging smile.
"You do that often?" one of the cops behind him asked.
"What is that, Officer?"
"Travel. Out of town?"
"Occasionally it is necessary."
"where'd you stay?" the woman asked. Stern tried not to react to the drift of the questions. The officers, of course, knew by now who he was and reacted accordingly-they despised most criminal defense lawyers, who hindered the police at every turn and were often richly rewarded for their efforts. To the police, this was a natural opportunity chance to pester an adversary and to indulge their customary nasty fancies about foul play and motives.
Maybe the spick was humping his girlfriend in Chi while somebody for hire set this up. You never know unless you ask.
"On this occasion, I was at the Ritz." Stern stood.
"May I go? My son and I have yet to speak with his sisters."
Nogalski was watching him.
"This doesn't make much sense," said the detective. It made no sense, the man said. This was his professional opinion.
Stern looked intently at Nogalski. It was one of the hazards of Stern's calling that he seldom felt grateful to the police.
Coming back down the hall, Stern could hear Peter's voice.
He was carrying on about something. The same ruddy-faced cop who had shown Stern into the garage was listening impassively. Stern took his son by the elbow to draw him away. This was intolerable. Intolerable!
Some tough element of resistance within him was wearing
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