79 Park Avenue
“Maryann Flood fw^ I PULLED the car into the parking-lot across the street from Criminal Courts. Before I had a chance to cut the engine, the attendant was holding the door for me. I eased out slowly, picking up my briefcase from the seat beside me, I had never rated this kind of service before.
"Nice day, Mr. Keyes," he said, falUng into step with me as I walked toward the exit.
I looked up at the sky. It was—^if you liked gray December days. I nodded. "Yes, Jerry." I stopped and looked at him. There was a grin on his face. He didn't have to tell me that he already knew. I could see it. That was why I rated today.
"Thanks," I said and cut across the street to the courthouse. It had been only twenty minutes since I myself found out. Eight miles and twenty minutes ago, in a hospital room in the Harkness Pavilion. Yet they knew it down here already.
The Old Man's face had been gray with pain against his pillow.
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