When Sampson and Cronin had departed and Djuna had retired to his tiny kitchen to wash the breakfast dishes, the Inspector turned to his writing desk and took up his fountain pen. He rapidly read over what he had written to his son. Signing, he put pen to paper once more.
Let’s forget what I just wrote. More than an hour has passed since then. Sampson and Tim Cronin came up and I had to crystallize our work on the case for their benefit. I never saw such a pair! Kids, both of ’em. Gobbled the story as if it were a fairy tale... As I talked, I saw with appalling clarity how little I actually did and how much you did. I’m pining for the day when you will pick out some nice girl and be married, and then the whole darned Queen family can pack off to Italy and settle down to a life of peace... Well, El, I’ve got to dress and go down to headquarters. A lot of routine work has collected since last Monday and my job is just about cut out for me...
When are you coming home? Don’t think I want to rush you, but it’s so gosh-awful lonesome, son. I— No, I guess I’m selfish as well as tired. Just a doddering old fogey who needs coddling. But you
Your loving
Note[3]