Mann fingered a clipping on his desk. It told the story.
George Andrews, young society man, had committed suicide by hanging himself from the hook of a skylight in his studio apartment. With his neck in a dangling loop, he had kicked away the chair on which he had been standing.
His body had been discovered by a maid who had entered in the morning.
Friends of Andrews had stated that the young man had been depressed because of money matters. This was all covered in the early editions of the evening newspapers.
“Too bad,” observed Mann. “I was talking this morning with a chap who knew Andrews well. He said that he had seen Andrews yesterday afternoon.”
“What did he say about him?” Burke asked.
“Well, Andrews was certainly hard up. But he was somewhat cheerful at that. He told my informant that he was expecting a visit from Jerry Middleton.”
“The polo player?”
“Yes,” Mann went on. “Middleton is a great traveler. Andrews evidently expected him back in New York last night. Middleton has money. Perhaps Andrews thought Middleton would lend him some.”
“But—”