There was a black coupe parked at the curb, and the young associate editor was being escorted toward it. He entered the car a little ahead of the two heavyset men, but they wasted no time in climbing in after him, and Fenton caught the momentary glitter of sunlight on what looked like the barrel of a drawn automatic. All this Lieutenant Fenton saw, and froze to immobility. Only for an instant, however. A short distance behind him a middle-aged man with a brief case was just getting into another car, a green Ford sedan. He'd noticed the car in passing, along with the man's unhurried stride. He'd even noticed the car keys dangling from the sedan owner's hand. Fenton swung about and was grasping the door of the second car before the startled man could ease himself completely into the driver's seat. Fenton whipped out and displayed his badge. "Get out, please, and give me those keys," he said, his voice so sharp that the man obeyed almost automatically and without waiting for Fenton to add: "This is a police emergency. I'm taking your car. Nothing to worry about. You'll get it back. Just get out and do as I tell you." He waited until the man reached the sidewalk before he gave him further, urgent instructions. He was himself in the driver's seat and using one of the keys when he met the car owner's agitated gaze and said, still speaking sharply, "Listen carefully, please. Go to the drugstore on the corner, and ask for the police. Put the call through as quickly as you can. Say that Lieutenant Fenton of Homicide--get that, _homicide_--has started trailing a car from this address. Say the car is heading north. And tell them ... it's a kidnapping. Be sure to give them the number of this building: 584--and the street. It's a black coupe: YG67999. Got that?" The man nodded, his face very pale now. "All right. Make it fast. If you should run into a cop, tell him the same thing. Even _after_ you've phoned." Fenton barely waited for the man to nod again before he nosed the sedan out into the traffic flow and followed the black coupe at a cautious distance, taking care not to give it too much headway and slowing a little when he seemed in danger of overtaking it. * * * * * A half hour later Fenton was still trailing the coupe at a cautious distance and he was still alone. No wail of a police siren had arisen behind him and he was now grateful for that. It had taken him a few minutes to make up his mind and decide that he was justified in feeling that way, and even now he had misgivings. He did not regret the instructions he'd given the owner of the sedan. The phone call had been routine, a necessary safeguard. He owed Hansen that much, at least.