Weston answered the ring and passed the telephone to Cardona.
“Inspector Klein is calling,” he said. “I suppose he wants to speak to you, Cardona.”
The commissioner saw the detective’s eyes narrow as he received the message. There was eagerness in Cardona’s voice as he gave short, quick response to the words that he was hearing.
“I’ll be over right away!” said Cardona. “It’s five thirty, now. I’ll be there before six!”
He hung up the receiver and looked at the commissioner. Cardona spoke and reached in his pocket at the same time.
“An old man found dead,” he said. “Shot through the heart. An old inventor. Living alone in an apartment at the Redan Hotel.”
Weston looked up inquiringly.
“The dead man’s name is Silas Harshaw!” added Cardona.
Weston noted an emphasis on the name. “Silas Harshaw?” he repeated. “Who is Silas Harshaw?”
Cardona flung the envelope triumphantly upon the table, and stared squarely at the commissioner.