A taxicab pulled into the space. The doorman opened the door. A short, stocky man made his exit.
Clyde was watching from an angle. He saw the man pay the driver. The cab rolled away.
Clyde caught a glimpse of the man’s face. He gripped Harry Vincent’s arm excitedly.
“Look, Harry!” he exclaimed. “Do you know who that fellow is?”
“No.”
“It’s Stanley Warwick!”
“The detective?”
“Right! The pride of the New York detective bureau. I’ve interviewed him. He has an international reputation, Harry. He follows up the biggest cases.”
“He just came back from Italy, didn’t he?”
“That’s right. Tracing some of the Mafia. Following a clew that began here in New York. They say that Mussolini offered him plenty to chuck up his job here and stay abroad.”