Yoder. âYou wonât have to check my prints against any you find, because I havenât fingered it. You still have the file of notes in the Audrey Martello case?â
âSure, Tim. You know we never throw anything away.â
âSee if you can match this one with one of the old ones.â
âI suppose weâll get dozens,â Yoder said wearily. âAfter all the lab work I did on that case, Iâm thinking about writing one myself. Howâd the court decision hit you?â
âWhere it hurts,â Corrigan said. âWhat makes it worse, we now have to give the sons all the protection other citizens are entitled to.â
âIâm glad itâs not my job. Well, send it over,â Yoder said. âIâm only up to my belly button in work.â
Corrigan hung up, used the eraser and letter-opener to refold the note and tuck it back into its envelope, then slid the envelope into a clasp envelope and took the clasp envelope out into the squadroom. Meisenheimer was writing a report at one of the desks.
âSend this over to the lab, Meis. Itâs for Yoder. And tell the messenger not to get itchy fingers. This thing is to be checked for latent prints.â
From behind a billow of meerschaum smoke the big man said, âCrank, Tim?â
âItâs unsigned,â Corrigan said shortly. Not every unsigned letter came from a crank. Sometimes the non-signer only wanted it to appear that way.
Meisenheimer stared after him, shaking his head.
Corrigan crossed the squadroom to Inspector Macelynâs office. He rapped on the door, and a bass voice said, âItâs about time!â
Macelyn was an ageless man who looked forty, could have been fifty, and was actually just past sixty. He could be as tough with his men as a Marine D.I., but he was also mother hen to every man in his department. If he could be said to have a pet, Corrigan was it. And certainly Corrigan felt close to him. The Inspector had been the prowl-car partner of Corriganâs father in their youth. That was only part of the reason, however. Corrigan considered Macelyn an outstanding executive officer, and Macelyn knew that Corrigan was the best man on the Main Office Squad.
The Inspector took a cigar from his mouth and waved it at a chair before the desk. âSorry I sounded off, TimâIâve been waiting. Sit down.â Corrigan took a chair, and waited. Macelyn said, âYouâve heard about the court decision in the Alstrom-Grant case?â
âYes, sir. In fact, I just received the first crank note about it. Iâve sent it over to the lab.â
âTheyâre starting to come in so soon?â Macelyn growled. âWell, thatâs an indication of what weâre up against.â
âWe?â Corrigan said. âYou mean Alstrom and Grant.â
âI mean the Main Office Squad. Weâve been handed the job of keeping them alive.â
âOh, great,â Corrigan said with disgust. âFor how long?â
The Inspector jammed the cigar back into his mouth. âIt could be worse. For just long enough to get them from Sing Sing to wherever they want to go. I donât know where that is, except that itâll probably not be their homes on Long Island. For security reasons no advance information will be forthcoming. Only the two themselves, their parents, and their lawyers know their destination.â
âAnd Iâm elected to play nursemaid?â
âThe Commissioner specifically asked for you. Incidentally, theyâre being released Thursday, not Friday. The Friday date was given out to throw a curve to anybody who might have ideas.â
âLike Marty Martello,â Corrigan said grimly. âItâs cutting it fine, but maybe itâll keep me from having to fight my way through a mob of reporters. Whatâs the procedure?â
âI really donât know. Except that youâre to ride up to Ossining