“Detective Cardona?” he queried. “There’s a phone call for you at the desk. I was upstairs looking for you. The man up there told me you were here.”
Cardona picked up a telephone from a table in the corner of the room, and asked for the call.
It was from headquarters.
“Yes… yes…” the others heard him exclaim. “Right away, inspector. Right away… We can come back here later.”
He hung up the receiver and turned to the group.
“A man named Louis Glenn,” he said. “Stockbroker. Died coming home in a taxicab. Only six blocks from here. I’m going over there to see what happened!”
“We’ll go along,” responded Weston. “Come, Biscayne. You, also, Doctor Fredericks. You might be needed.”
There was something in Cardona’s tone that had prompted Weston to this quick decision. The commissioner was beside the detective as they passed through the lobby. He spoke to Cardona in a low voice.
“Do you think there’s a connection?” he asked. “Two deaths — Harshaw and Glenn—”
“Remember the note,” replied Cardona cryptically. “Harshaw was the first. Glenn may have been the second!”