“Do you ever remove tattoos, Mr. Saal?”
“It’s against the law,” the man replied briefly.
“I didn’t know that,” said Penny in surprise. “Why?”
“Crooks can be identified by their tattoos. Oh, it’s easy for a fellow to get one on, but not so easy to get it off.”
“But it can be done?” Penny persisted. “Have you ever removed one?”
“I’m the only man in the state who can take off a tattoo so it doesn’t show,” boasted Mr. Saal. “The surgeons have tried, but you always can see where it was.”
“Tell me about some of the tattoos you’ve removed,” urged Penny.
“I’ve told you more than I should now,” said Mr. Saal. “You’ll print it in the paper and then I’ll get into trouble with the police.”
“This will be strictly confidential,” promised Penny.
“It’s this way,” Mr. Saal justified himself. “I never do any work for crooks—not me. But if a law-abiding, respectable citizen comes here and says he’s sick of his tattoo, then sometimes I take it off for him if he’s willing to pay the price. Fact is, I’m workin’ on a mighty interesting case right now. It’s a design that’s rare—an octopus.”