"Where are the other three?" Virginia asked.
~LareIIa took his wife to the doctor," Byrnes said.
"How sweet," Virginia said bitterly.
"And then he's got a suicide he's working on."
"When will he be back?"
"I don't know."
"You must have some idea."
"I have no idea. He'll be back when he's ready to come back."
"What about the other two men?"
"Brown's on a plant. The back of a tailor shop."
"A what?"
"A plant. A stakeout, call it what you want to. He's sitting there waiting for the place to be held up."
"Don't kid me, Lieutenant."
"I'm not kidding, damnit. Four tailor shops in the neighborhood have been held up during the daylight hours. We expect this one to get hit soon. Brown's waiting for the thief to show."
"When will he come back to the squad room
"A little after dark, I imagine. Unless the thief hits. What time is it now?" Byrnes looked up at the clock on the wall. "4:38. I imagine he'll be back by six or so."
"And the last one? Willis?"
Byrnes shrugged.
"He was here a half hour ago. Who's catching?"
"I am," Meyer said.
"Well, where'd Willis go?"
"He's out on a squeal, Pete. A knifing on Mason."
"That's where he is then," Byrnes said to Virginia.
"And when will he be back?"
"I don't know."
"Soon?"
"I imagine so."
"Who else is in the building?"
"The desk sergeant and the desk lieutenant. You passed them on your way in."
"Yes?"
"Captain Frick, who commands the entire precinct in a sense."
"What do you mean?"
"I control the squad, but officially ..
"Where's he?"
"His office is downstairs."
"Who else?"
"There are a hundred and eighty-six patrolmen attached to this precinct," Byrnes said.
"A third of them are on duty now.
Some of them are roaming around the building. The rest are out on their beats."
"What are they doing in the building?"
"Twenty-fours mostly." Byrnes paused and then translated.
"Duty as records clerks."
"When does the shift change again?"
"At a quarter to midnight."
"Then they won't be back until then? The ones on beats?"
"Most of them'll be relieved on post. But they usually come back to change into their street clothes before going home."
"Will any detectives be coming up here?
Besides the ones listed on the duty chart?"
"Possibly."
"We're not supposed to be relieved until eight in the morning, Pete," Meyer said.
"But Carella will be back long before then, won't he?" Virginia asked.
"Probably."
"Yes or no?"
"I can't say for sure. I'm playing this straight with you, Virginia. Carella may get a lead which'll keep him out of the office. I don't know."
"Will he call in?"
"Maybe."
"If he does, tell him to come right back here. Do you understand?"
"Yes. I understand."
The telephone rang. It cut the conversation and then shrilled persistently into the silence of the squad room
"Answer it," Virginia said.
"No funny stuff."
Meyer picked up the receiver.
"Eightyseventh Squad." he said, "Detective Meyer speaking." He paused.
"Yes, Dave. Go ahead, I'm listening." He was aware all at once of the fact that Virginia Dodge was hearing only one-half of the telephone conversation with the desk sergeant. Casually, patiently, he listened.
"Meyer, we got a call a little while back from some guy who beard shots and a scream from the apartment next to his. I sent a car over, and they just reported back. A dame got shot in the arm, and her boyfriend claims the gun went off accidentally while he was cleaning it. You want to send one of the boys over?"
"Sure, what's the address?" Meyer said, patiently watching Virginia.
"23-79 Culver. That's next door to the Easy Bar. You know it?"
"I know it. Thanks, Dave."
"Okay." Meyer put up the phone.
"That was a lady calling," Meyer said.
"Dave thought we ought to take it."
"Who's Dave?" Virginia asked.
"Murchison. The desk sergeant," Byrnes said.
"What is it, Meyer?"
"This lady says somebody's trying to break into her apartment. She wants us to send a detective over right away."
Byrnes and Meyer exchanged a long knowing glance. Such a call would have been handled by the desk sergeant directly, and he would not have annoyed the Detective Division with it. He'd have dispatched a radio motor patrol car immediately.
"Either that or he wants you to contact the captain and see what he can do about it," Meyer said.
"All right, I'll do that," Byrnes said.
"Is that all right with you, Virginia?"
"No one's leaving this room," Virginia said.
"I know that. Which is why I'm passing the call on to Captain Frick. Is that all right?"
"Go ahead" she said.
"No tricks."
"The address is 23-79 Culver," Meyer said.
"Thanks." Byrnes dialed three numbers and waited. Captain Frick picked up the phone on the second ring.
"Yop?" he said.
"John, this is Pete."
"Oh, hello, Pete. How goes it?"
"So-so. John, I've got a special favor I'd like you to do."
"What's that?"
"Some woman at 23-79 Culver is complaining that someone's trying to get into her apartment. I can't spare a man right now. Could you get a patrolman over there?"
"What?" Frick said.
"I know it's an unusual request. We'd ordinarily handle it ourselves, but we're kind of busy."
"What?" Frick said again.
"Can you do it, John?" Standing with the receiver to his ear, Byrnes watched the shrewdly calculating eyes of Virginia Dodge. Come on, John, he thought. Wake up, for Christ's sake!