But it was not enough.
“Every link in the chain of evidence must be complete,” Carter muttered. What move ought he to make?
“Should he close in on Rich and his pals and take the chance of discovering the needed evidence against them?”
“No, I won’t do that,” the detective muttered, as this question flashed through his mind.
He turned and wended his way uptown.
It was seven o’clock when he halted in front of the Studio Building.
Some force seemed to impel him to enter. He did not go near the elevator; but he walked upstairs to the top floor. He strolled along the hall and stopped in front of the door of Rich’s room.
No light shone through the transom.
Were the conspirators out?
Carter knocked.