He returned the book to its place, took up his overall and cane, and:

"Very good, sir," he said. "I will proceed to Vine Street."

"Certainly--certainly," murmured the Assistant Commissioner, glancing
up absently. "Good night."

"Good night, sir."

"Oh, Chief Inspector!"

Kerry turned, his hand on the door-knob.

"Sir?"

"I--er--what was I going to say? Oh, yes! The social importance of the
murdered man raises the case from the--er--you follow me? Public
interest will become acute, no doubt. I have therefore selected you
for your well known discretion. I met Sir Lucien once. Very sad. Good
night."

"Good night, sir."

Kerry passed out into the corridor, closing the door quietly. The
Assistant Commissioner was a man for whom he entertained the highest
respect. Despite the bewildered air and wandering manner, he knew this
big, tired-looking soldier for an administrator of infinite capacity
and inexhaustive energy.

Proceeding to a room further along the corridor, Chief Inspector Kerry