روز سوم

TO THE POLICE

Thursday was his next-to-last day. He had been tenacious in following up every lead. Now he was behind the eight ball.

He could hardly galvanize himself to do anything else.

The facade of hope he had worn for almost a week was crumbling; there was nothing left to be sanguine about.

In desperation he turned to the police and placed his problem within their jurisdiction.

They asked many questions, and they requested that he not expurgate anything.

Some of the questions seemed asinine When they inquired about his relationship to the missing girl, he replied, with a grimace, “Fiancee.”

When they suggested she might be hiding in that part of the city where the “punk” coterie congregated, he was incredulous and accused the police of calumny against her good name and reputation.