Higgins nodded. He interrupted with a few words addressed to the police captain.
“The orders to kill Prescott came from higher up,” was his comment. “Larrigan may have done it. Varona may have ordered it. If Varona is responsible, the instructions probably came from the big shot.”
“Savoli?”
“Correct.”
As Higgins turned to Fellows, the police car stopped suddenly. They were at headquarters.
Captain Weaver alighted and walked away from the car, leaving Higgins with Fellows. The assistant commissioner followed with the insurance broker. Fellows was speaking as they moved along.
Fellows had been doing some thinking during the ride. He was ready to tell the police everything he knew about Horace Prescott. It would be the opening shot in a drastic campaign against gangdom. Higgins would be able to act with the startling information he would gain.
With it all, Fellows could easily avoid mention of his real purpose in visiting Prescott. Neither Togo nor Louie knew anything of Prescott’s revelations.
Prescott had satisfied Fellows on that point. His servants had been chosen to create respectability, not to act as associates.
“I know who killed Prescott,” said Fellows quietly, as he stepped along beside Higgins. “I can positively name the men in back of it, and tell why they struck.”