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Miami, and all the time she was less than a hundred miles from Buffalo. The Erie police picked her up last night and she kindly waived extradition. Wonder if you’ll do me a favor, Chief?”
    â€œSure,” Saxon said.
    â€œI’ve been developing a pain in my side ever since we left Erie, and it’s getting worse by the minute. I think maybe I have a hot appendix. I’m afraid to risk the last twenty-five miles. Can you stick my prisoner in a cell until I can get looked at by a doctor?”
    â€œOf course. The woman we use as a matron happens to be at a party, but I know where she is. I’ll phone her to come over.”
    â€œWhy pull her away from a party?” the sergeant said. “At least until I’m sure I won’t be able to drive on. The prisoner won’t have to be searched, because she was searched by a matron in Erie, and I have everything she’s not allowed to carry in an envelope in my car. If I can find a doctor, I should know within an hour if it’s safe to drive on. If it isn’t, phone your matron then.”
    Rules required that a matron be present at the jail any time there was a female prisoner. As this occurred too seldom to justify a full-time matron, the town’s only meter-maid, Jenny Waite, pinch-hit as matron when necessary. As a condition of her employment she had to keep headquarters informed of where she could be reached in emergency. But as the sergeant suggested, it would be a shame to interrupt Jenny’s New Year’s Eve celebration if the female prisoner was going to be there no more than an hour.
    â€œI guess we can skip regulations this time,” Saxon agreed. He said to the woman; “I’ll hang your coat in one of the lockers.”
    â€œCan’t I keep it?” she asked huskily. “I’m still cold from the ride. This dumb cop hasn’t got a heater.”
    â€œLet her keep it,” Morrison said. “Which way do we go?”
    Saxon took the cell key ring from his pocket and led the way back to the cell block. The three cells were in a row, the last one having a solid steel wall between it and the center one so that it couldn’t be seen into from the others. This was the “women’s section.”
    As they passed the first cell, Edward Coombs said, “Company, huh? Maybe we can have a New Year’s Eve party.”
    No one answered him.

chapter 6
    At the door of cell number three Sergeant Morrison removed the woman’s handcuffs. The barred door was standing open. The prisoner walked into the cell without being ordered and glanced around disdainfully. The place was immaculately clean, but not very homey, containing nothing but a washbowl with a polished steel mirror over it, a screened commode, and a drop-down bunk.
    Seeing her expression, Morrison said, “Better get used to it, lady. You’re going to be living in one like it for a long time.”
    She turned to glare at him, then whipped off her headscarf and tossed it on the bunk. Without the scarf she looked more like the composite drawing that had been published, for the short, bleached blonde hair which curled around her face in a poodle cut had been one of the distinctive features of the drawing.
    Saxon locked the cell door. “You want anything, just holler,” he said.
    â€œWho could want any more than this bridal suite has to offer?” she asked contemptuously.
    Saxon turned away without answering. Morrison trailed him back to the waiting room.
    Moving behind the counter, Saxon lifted the radio microphone and said, “Control to Car Two. Come in, Car Two.”
    From the speaker George Chaney’s voice said, “Car Two to Control. Go ahead.”
    â€œCome on in, George,” Saxon said. “I want you to run a patient over to the hospital.”
    As he hung up the mike, Morrison said, “I could have driven that far, Chief.”
    â€œThey aren’t doing anything,” Saxon said.