As Greeling led Vossian down the hall and past the officers' bullpen, the haggard magician kept his eyes peeled for the tall officer that Detective Pratt had kicked out of the Interrogation Room, but couldn't find him. For the first time all afternoon, something other than that poor Russian girl's disappearance occupied Vossian's every thought. They made their way to the front door but that young cop seemed absent from the room.
Vossian nudged Greeling and asked, "Hey, who's the young cop that Pratt hates?"
Greeling opened the front door for Vossian and led him out to Greeling's Black & White. With a smile, Greeling asked, "Which one?"
Vossian took a seat and said, "No, I'm serious. There was this tall kid, skinny, kinda quirky lookin', had wild dark hair."
Greeling started the car and made sure Vossian had fastened his belt before putting the car into gear, "Jeez, I don't know, guy. Coulda been anybody."
Vossian didn't push it any further. In fact, he remained silent for the remainder of the car ride back to his apartment, where he stumbled out of the cruiser, mumbled a 'Thanks" to Officer Greeling, and then trudged up the front steps with his keys in his hand. He specifically waited for Greeling to accelerate away before putting the key in the lock, but he heard no such engine noises. Worse, he felt the powerful force of the cop's eyes on his back as he stood there. He turned to give Greeling a dismissive good-bye wave, but the other man wasn't so easily brushed off -- or was just stubborn.
Greeling smiled and said, through the rolled down window, "I have to see you enter your domicile before I can leave, Mr. Vossian."
Vossian nodded and smiled and jammed his key in the door, inwardly deciding as he did so that only pretentious assholes used the word "Domicile."