“We made that garment six years ago,” the manager said, after he had inspected the coat.
“Can you tell for whom?” Carter asked. “If you can tell me, I shall be greatly obliged.”
“I can. Do you notice this number in indelible ink on the pocket flap? Well, that is the number of the order. I will refer to our books.”
He walked back into the office and examined a large ledger.
In a few moments he returned to Carter and said:
“That coat was made for a gentleman named Simeon Rich.”
“Thank you,” Carter rejoined, and then he departed.
The coils around Rich were tightening, but the detective had not found that weapon with which the crime had been committed.
Perhaps the murderer had thrown it away.
That was likely.