Prisoner's Base

"I'll see what I can do," he said sympathetically and went.

I had of course stopped the captain and appealed to him as a diversion, just for something to do, and it was totally unexpected when, some twenty minutes later, a sergeant walked up to me and asked my name. I told him.

He turned to my chaperon. "What's this man's name?"

"He told you, Sergeant."

"I'm asking you!"

"I don't know of my own knowledge, Sergeant. Up at Homicide they said his name was Archie Goodwin, like he told you."

The sergeant made a noise, not complimentary, glanced at my cuffs, produced a ring of keys and used one, and my hands were free. I had never seen that captain before and haven't seen him since, and I don't know his name, but if you ever get stuck in an alcove at headquarters with handcuffs on, ask for a captain around fifty to fifty-five with a big red nose and a double chin, wearing metal-rimmed glasses.

A little later another sergeant came with orders, and I was escorted down and out, to Leonard Street, up to the District Attorney's layout, and to a room. There at last some attention was paid to me, by a Homicide dick named Randall, whom I knew a little, and an assistant DA I had never seen before, named Mandelbaum. They pecked at me for an hour and a half, and there was nothing in it for anybody, except that I got the impression that there would be no charge. When they left they didn't even bother about a sentinel, merely telling me to stick. The third or fourth time I looked at my watch after their departure it was a quarter to six.