There was nothing in the paper as to how the police had happened to discover the crime. News of that mysterious telephone call of mine had apparently been deliberately suppressed. The newspaper explained that the police who stumbled upon the murder were “merely upon a routine tour of inspection.”
I read the news, smoked a cigarette, and went back up to the public typing agency.
Ethel Wells had pulled a proof of the letter for me.
I read it over.
“You think this will do the work?” I asked.
She said, “It rang the bell with me — as you may have noticed.”
“I noticed.”
She laughed up at me. “You were all eyes, as the saying goes.”
I said, “I need an address for the Silkwear Importation Company.”
“Three dollars a month entitles you to use the office as a mailing address. You can have as many letters sent here as you want.”