The Foundling (aka Abandoned Baby)

25th Precinct Sergeant Waters. Who's missing? Is that your wife? How do you spell that? D-E-O-G. Where is it you live? Where? You are by transcription in the muster room at the 21st Precinct, the nerve center.

A call is coming through. You will follow the action taken pursuant to that call from this minute until the final report is written in the 124 room at the 21st Precinct. All right, I'll tell you what you do.

You better come into the station house and talk to the detectives. That's right. I'm right on in here. 21st Precinct is just lines on the map of the City of New York. Most of the 173,000 people wedged into the nine tents of a square mile between Fifth Avenue and the East River wouldn't know if you asked them that they lived or worked in the 21st.

Whether or not they know it, the security of their homes, their persons and their property is the job of the men of the 21st precinct. The 21st, 160 patrolmen, 11 sergeants and 4 lieutenants of whom I am the boss.

My name is Cronan, Vincent P. Cronan. I am captain and commander of the 21st precinct. I was doing night duty, 4 p.m. to 8 a.m. After I turned out the platoon, I read and signed reports and communications that had accumulated since I was last on duty.

At five fifty I walked out of my office into the muscle room. Well Lieutenant Gorman was desk officer and Sergeant Waters was on telephone switchboard. First precinct Sergeant Waters. I love Captain Sergeant. You have to ring in. That brings me that.

I don't know if I'm out of control now, really. I just broke the thing in every time they want to take a deep breath. Didn't you, Sergeant? Yes, sir. I guess I did. I have a car come by the house for me and going out of control.