Thomas she then began, speaking with a deliberate but negative tone.
'Look,' he said.
'We'll compromise. I'll come to the doorman downstairs. He'll ring you. You tell him to send me up. I won't go to your apartment. I'll go to the roof gardens for two hours. I want to be off the street.'
There was silence on the other end. Then the recording in the telephone began.
'Please!' he begged.
'I don't have another coin. Decide!'
'All right,' she gave in.
'But if you come near my door, I'll call the police ' The police, he thought. Lovely.
'Agreed,' he said.
He hung up and turned He jolted to a halt. Two men were completely blocking his way out of the booth. He thought his heart would leap out of his chest. Or stop.
How could he have been so careless? How had he let them close in on him?
'Who were you talking to, Mr. Daniels?' the larger one with the Irish face asked.
'A lady, maybe?' asked the smaller, darker one.
Hearn and Shassad, respectively.
'If you'll excuse me' said Thomas, trying to push his way past.
Hearn's arm was up quickly and blocked Thomas's route, keeping his back to the telephone booth.
'I'm afraid we can't excuse you,' said Shassad.
'We'd like to talk with you.'
'How about tomorrow?'
'How about now?'
Thomas grimaced at Shassad.
'You're forgetting' he said.
'I'm an attorney. I know my rights. Unless you have a specific-'
'Your janitor friend Jacobus was murdered this morning' said Hearn, 'in case you didn't know.' Thomas's eyes were riveted 'on the wiry man with the gaunt, sad face.
'Your girl friend, the one who's the hockey fan, was seen leaving jacobus home. You know who she is. You may even know where she is.
That makes you a material witness. If not an accomplice.'
Thomas searched their faces, recalling Leslie's words not to talk to anyone familiar, not to trust a soul. just trust her, just once more.
'I don't believe you,' he said.
'Want to see a body? Jacobus should be at the Medical Examiner's right now. We'll take you' 'Sorry,' he said.
'I'm not going.
Shassad grinned.
'Yes, you are. Unless that was your girl friend you were just talking to. If you'd like to take us to see her, we'd appreciate that, too' '
Thomas looked at both men again.
'All right' he said to settle them. They relaxed slightly and Thomas bolted.'
It was hardly a race, Thomas had traveled no more than fifteen feet when Shassad grabbed the back of his jacket, slowing him enough for Hearn to grab him by the arm. Hearn chicken-winged Thomas's left arm and shoved him against the side of the building. Before Thomas knew what was happening, he was being frisked. They found the knife.
'What the hell are we carrying this for?' demanded Shassad, as Hearn pulled out the knife and handed it to his partner.
'In case a steak floats by?-.
'It's a dangerous city,' said Thomas. He was permitted to turn and face the detectives.
Shassad's face began to break into a sly smile.
'Some attorney you must be,' he said.
'A second ago you were a mere witness. Now you're under arrest.
Concealed weapon ' He gave a low whistle of satisfaction.
'That's serious stuff, Daniels. You know that?'
'I'm an attorney,' Thomas said sourly.
'You don't have to remind me' 'Seems I heard a saying once,' said Hearn.
'The lawyer who pleads his own case has a fool for a client' The son of William Ward Daniels resisted a response. He was taken to the Nineteenth Precinct, pondering whether his client, the woman who'd be waiting in vain for him in Central Park, had a fool for a lawyer. It was ten fifteen.
Thomas Daniels sat with his arms folded in front of him. The lighting was abrasive in the stuffy small room with grim avocado walls. Patrick Hearn sat at one end of the table, Daniels at the other.
Shassad was more prone to being on his feet. As Daniels listened to him, circling back over the same subject matter an uncountable number of times, Shassad was also more prone to anger.
Thomas looked at his watch. It was one thirty in the morning.
'All right,' said Shassad, 'we'll start again from the top. Where were you at eight o'clock this morning?'
'I've already told you. Home in bed. The answer hasn't changed' 'No witnesses?'
Daniels stared at him cynically,
'Unfortunately no' 'When did you hear form your'client'last?'
'This morning at nine. She telephoned me, he repeated grudgingly.
'Why did she call you?'
'To discuss her case. I filed motions for her yesterday.'
'Where is she?'
'Damn it, Shassad,' retorted Daniels, 'the answers aren't going to change no matter how many times you ask. I've told you everything I know.'
Shassad turned quickly and angrily, leaning forward on the table, pushing his contorted face to within inches of Daniels's.
'Damn it!' he roared. 'What's her name?'
Daniels was silent, Shassad's eyes fiery and inches away from his own.
'Where's she live?'
Silence again.
'Where is she?'
More silence.
'God damn you!' he roared. He turned over two chairs beside the table and sent them crashing against a wall and a filing cabinet.
'Son of a bitch! Trying to be the hotshot like the old man, huh? Fuck the cops, huh? All right! You wanted it!'
Shassad burst from the room and was gone for less than ten seconds. He returned with the steak knife taken from Daniels earlier.
The knife, tagged as evidence and now shielded in a plastic bag, was flung down on the table in front of Daniels.
'See that?' roared Shassad.
'See it? That's something your old man was never dumb enough to do!
Concealed weapon. You won't cooperate with me, I don't cooperate with you. How'd you like to go out to the desk sergeant and be booked for that? Huh? That can mean jail, you know. You want that?' Shassad was leaning forward on the table again, above the knife, shouting.
'Lawyer-client relations are confidential,' said Daniels placidly.
'I don't expect you to understand a tricky philosophical concept like that' He glanced at his watch.
'That's why you're a cop' Shassad moved back slightly, changing his tone of voice.
'What's the matter. You catching a train or something?'
