"So, that's what happened? You'll be willing to make a court statement?"

Fawful found himself in a police interrogation room several hours later, a cigarette having been offered to him. Two officers sat in front of him without having given their names, so he simply thought of them as "no names."

"Yes. Was I not precise enough?"

"No, it's just that we'll need a statement to be made so that this can all be cleared up without any mistakes."

"I've told you everything. Every little detail. And now I just want to go home."

"You can go any time you want, Mr. Fawful. And you know what? Thank God we were able to find that phony operator on time, otherwise we'd have one more body than we already do."

"How did you even find her?"

"Telephone signals and such. It's all very complicated. But now, she's going away for a while. She may be twenty, but she's still an accessory to murder."

Fawful took a long drag from the cigarette and sighed.

"Are we about done here? I need rest quite badly."

"Yeah, I'd say so. But first, there's just something I want you to do."

Fawful put the cigarette out in the ashtray before him.

"And that is?"

The officer pulled a hardcover book from his coat pocket.

"Would you sign this for my wife, please?"

…

Fawful walked out of the police station with two officers behind him, having been thanked for settling the issue and then being let go to wherever he chose. He leaned against the railing of the stairs, looked up into the afternoon sky, and sighed.

Then he walked off into the city.