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“So far as I can determine from these,” Washington said, “neither of these gentlemen was wearing anything on his cranium as they left the scene.”
“I don’t think a jury would fall in love with these,” Mickey said. “But I do see silhouetted heads, and there ain’t nothing on either of them.”
Washington again waited until both Amal al Zaid and Tony Harris had examined all three prints.
“So what?” Amal al Zaid asked.
“This poses the question, Double-A Zee,” Washington said. “If this fellow came into the restaurant wearing a shade, where is it now?”
Harris went back into the salesman’s case.
He came out with a typewritten list.
“Here it is,” he said, “On the unclaimed property list. Number fifteen. ‘One black sun visor, make unknown, gray cotton-covered visor, plastic headband.’ They found it under the table. So far as prints are concerned… ‘One partially smudged print, possibly index finger, on rear of headband.’ ”
“That won’t be enough, will it?” O’Hara asked.
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Washington said.
He took out his cellular telephone and pushed an autodial key.
“Has Captain Quaire gone for the day?” he asked, and then a moment later, “Would you switch me to him, please?”
There was a brief pause.
“Lieutenant Washington, sir,” he said, “with a request.”
There was another pause.
“On the list of unclaimed property found in the Roy Rogers, as item fifteen, there is ‘One black sun visor, make unknown, gray cotton-covered visor, plastic headband.’ We have reason to believe it was left behind by one of the doers. The lab reports one partially smudged print, possibly index finger. I would like to inspire them to greater effort. This might be possible if you took the item down there personally, sir…”
There was another brief pause.
“Thank you very much. And may I suggest that you tell them I will be in later tonight to check on their progress?” Pause. “Thanks, Henry. It’s all that we have right now.”
He pushed the End key and turned to Amal al Zaid.
“Double-A Zee, I think we’re at the point where the doer took off his shade. What happened next?”
At twenty after six, just as he turned onto I-95 South, Matt’s cellular rang.
“Payne.”
“Sergeant, this is Lassiter.”
“I have a surfeit of bad news, Detective Lassiter. With that caveat, you may proceed.”
He thought he heard her giggle, and found it charming.
“No bad news. I just left the Williamsons’…”
“And?”
“Everything’s under control. Their minister is there. I don’t think she’s going to change her mind about the uniforms being right in not taking the door. And I’m going back in the morning-she asked me to.”
“You get a gold star to take home to Mommy, Detective Lassiter,” Matt said.
“Sergeant,” she said, a tone of exasperation in her voice, “Northwest wants their car back, that’s one thing. The second thing is, Mrs. Williamson told me Cheryl used to hang out in a bar called Halligan’s Pub. I’d like a look, but thought I’d better check with you first.”
