Enough rope to hang himself with, then. Wrench glances at the question on the page, then up at the expectant faces of the doctor and the chief of police. He knows by now what these men are capable of. He's seen the aftermath of their so-called interrogations more than once. There's no part of him that's eager to know Numbers or Arthur might be headed for that fate again. Could he prevent that, or is it already too late? Did they start their questions with him?

It's not a crime to want to leave town for the day, is it? You can't hold an entire city in lockdown when we haven't done anything wrong.

His handwriting probably doesn't match the time. It's casual and loose, but neat. It loops into itself in the kind of half-script designed for fluidity and utility.