"It's in regard to the ongoing investigation into Nadler's death," I said. "We believe there might be some connection to your unit. Would it be possible for us to have a look at it?"
"No, it would not. Not without a warrant." She paused, looking me up and down. "Produce one, and I'll be more than happy to comply."
"That will take a few hours. It really would—"
"I do not care about what is easy or not," she cut in coldly. "The law is the law, young lady, and I will not be railroaded into doing anything that might not be advantageous to myself."
"I'm not implying that you're in any way involved—"
"Then what are you implying?"
"As I said, I'm merely trying to tie up some loose ends."
"Well, this is one end that will remain loose until you get the proper paperwork, and not before."
Okay, then. I forced another smile. "If you happen to remember just where you know John Nadler from, could you perhaps give me a call?"
"That I can do." She took out an old-fashioned notebook and pen, then looked at me pointedly. "Number?"
I gave her my cell phone number, then added, "I'm sorry to have delayed you so long, Ms. Sands."
She nodded, tucked her notebook back into her bag, then turned and strode to the still-waiting taxi.
"What do you think?" I asked, as she climbed into the cab and slammed the door.
"I could not read her."
I glanced at him, surprised. "That seems to be happening an awful lot these days."