“So you said,” the Saint agreed. “About a Matter. But just at the moment I’m already seeing someone about a Matter. Perhaps if you told me the nature of this Matter of yours I’d be more co-operative. How do I know it’s important?”
“We’ve got a body down at the morgue, and we’d like you to look at it. That’s all.”
“Ah,” said the Saint, and was briefly silent while he lighted a thoughtful cigarette. “I’d love to, Lieutenant. I’ve always said that Chicago is one of the most hospitable cities in the world. But I’ve already seen the Art Institute and Marshall Field’s and the Natural History Museum, and I don’t think I need a corpse to increase my liking for your city. Unless it’s got two heads. Has it got two heads?”
Kearney said doggedly, “It’s only got one head and we want you to look at it. I’m being polite, Mr Templar. But I don’t have to be, you know.”
Simon knew it. He had heard that tone of voice before. And he was very definitely curious.
“I know,” he murmured. “It’s just your better nature. Well, I’d do almost anything to make you happy. When and where do you want me to ogle this cadaver?”
“If you could come on down to the morgue right now, I could meet you there. It would help.”
“Fine,” Simon said. “In about twenty minutes?”
“That’ll suit me. Thanks, Mr Templar.”
“Not at all,” said the Saint, and went more soberly back to the table.