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24 What's it worth to you to go away and come back just after the noon hour to do the job?"

The two consulted together and sulkily named their price. As the attorney paid them, he asked:

"Who is your boss? Where is his shop?"

"Bill Kenny, sir." The generous tip which Titheredge had added to the sum demanded had evidently had a mollifying effect. "His place is over on Eighth Avenue, near Fiftieth. Thank you, sir. We'll be back right after noon."

They touched their caps and started down the hall toward the servants' staircase which led to the tradesman's entrance, and the attorney turned to speak to Peters; but that wily individual had disappeared, and after a moment Titheredge opened the door and started thoughtfully down the steps. He had caught the butler in two deliberate lies within the space of an hour, but he gave the matter little thought. All the way downtown to Police Headquarters his mind was busied with one problem. Who had telephoned from that house to the shop on the previous day? Who had known that the picture was going to fall?

The Police Commissioner had not yet reached his office, but a brief interview with his secretary put one of the smaller examination rooms at his disposal, where the attorney was joined shortly by a brisk, smiling young man whose clean-cut features and almost boyishness of manner gave no hint of the police department. His forehead was broad, with just the hint of a scar above one eyebrow; and the merry blue eyes themselves as well as the high cheekbones beneath betokened his ancestry as much as his name proclaimed it.