listens to police

Late October is not the museum's high traffic season, and I saw only a couple of other visitors in the great entrance hall. Museum security was in evidence, a couple of men in brown quasi-uniforms, and an older fellow with greying hair and a comfortable-looking suit. The man in the suit stood next to an unobtrusive doorway, talking to a couple of uniformed police officers, neither of which I recognized.
I moseyed over closer to the three of them, casually browsing over various exhibits until I could get close enough to Listen in.
"... damnedest thing," the old security chief was saying. "Never would have figured that this kind of business would happen here."
"People are people," said the older of the two cops, a black man in his forties. "We can all get pretty crazy."
The younger cop was a little overweight and had a short haircut the color of steamed carrots. "Sir, do you know of anyone who might have had some kind of argument with Mister Bartlesby?"


Dead Beat Chapter 13, Page 116-117