“Yes,” said the physician, “I had told him to call me at eight. I was not at my office, yesterday. It was not until this afternoon that I learned Harshaw had not come for his prescription.
“Immediately, I feared that something had happened to him. He would not have gone without first coming to my office. That is why I came here and insisted that a search be made of this place.
“I expected to find him sick and helpless. Instead, we found him dead — murdered!”
Biscayne was examining the body. Now, apparently oblivious to those about him, he walked across the room to the door. He looked at Harshaw’s desk, midway between the door and the window.
While the others were watching him, he came back slowly and spoke to Weston.
“It looks to me, commissioner,” said Biscayne, “as though some one had been waiting outside that door. When Harshaw opened it, the assassin shot him. Then the murderer dragged his body over here and opened the window, to make it look as though he was killed there.”
“How did the killer escape?” queried Weston.
“That remains to be discovered,” declared Biscayne.
JOE CARDONA smiled. He went to the body and made an examination of his own. He stared closely at the dead man’s right hand. He looked at the radiator beneath the window ledge.
He clambered on the sill, and his flashlight gleamed about the bottom of the iron grating. He dropped back into the room.