Two hours later, Mr. Peck entered Charlie Ward's office again and eased himself into a chair.
"I have an idea," he informed Ward, "that the apprehension of the murderer is but a matter of moments. As a matter of fact, I can put my finger on him in ten minutes should I care to."
"You can put your finger on him right this minute if you want to," Ward supplemented, taking his feet off the desk and flipping a cigarette butt through the window.
"How so?"
Ward unlocked a drawer in his desk and drew out a tin box from which he produced a thickly padded envelope.
"I been doing a little scientific snooping myself," he announced with a proud ear to ear grin.
"That's extremely gratifying."
Ward thumbed toward a cigar butt in an ash tray.
"That," he said, "is what's left of a cigar you give me this morning. It gives off a pretty thick aroma."
"It ought to. They cost me a dollar each."