At police headquarters, Inspector Timothy Klein was chewing the end of a fat, unlighted cigar as he stared sullenly at Detective Joe Cardona.
“You see the connection, don’t you?” he demanded.
Cardona nodded.
“This whole thing is your fault, then. If you had got your man the first time, this new mess wouldn’t have come along. It’s time you woke up, Joe.”
“Woke up!” exclaimed the detective. “I’ve been trying to trail that mug that was at Marchand’s house.
“Whether he did the murder or not, we’ve got the goods on him! He was carrying guns. He resisted arrest and assaulted me. But even at that, I believe his story—”
“Blah!” interjected the inspector. “Don’t be a kid, Joe. Wise up.” He thrust a copy of the Morning Monitor before the detective’s eyes and pointed to the glaring headlines.
“Look at the ride they’re giving us. Another murderer slips the police. Where is the man that was in the car? Look over here” — he turned to a back page — “they even point out the similarity to the Lukens murder.
“They want to know where the man is who was found beside the doctor’s body. There’s the connection right there!”
He threw the paper in front of Cardona. The detective did not seem to notice it. Klein became sarcastic.