7: Bring in Verna and Nellie
AGAIN WE were back in Centre Street. It was snowing, a new wind out of the Adirondacks blew down on us a blow as cold as the Alpine mistral, and millions of tiny flakes were fluttering outside the broad window of Thatcher Colt's private office. Only the green-shaded desk lamp was lit in that high-ceilinged room.
Together we sat there, Colt, Flynn and I, checking on our various activities. Things were moving, but not fast enough to satisfy the Commissioner. He was especially anxious to talk with detectives Norris and Blume, who had telephoned in from the Bronx about the vanishing Nellie Schwartz. The two detectives had reported they were on their way to Centre Street for a personal report to the Commissioner. That telephone call had been around five-thirty; no
