"And you are going to find out about Fellner?" smiled the
commissioner. "And this evening, too?"

"This very evening. If he is asleep I shall wake him up. That is
the best time to get at the truth about a man.

The commissioner sat down at his desk and wrote out the necessary
credentials for the detective. A few moments later Muller was in
the street. He left the notebook with the commissioner. It was
snowing heavily, and an icy north wind was howling through the
streets. Muller turned up the collar of his coat and walked on
quickly. It was just striking a quarter to twelve when he reached
Cathedral Lane. As he walked slowly along the moonlit side of the
pavement, a man stepped out of the shadow to meet him. It was the
policeman who had been sent to watch the house. Like Muller, he
wore plain clothes.

"Well?" the latter asked.

"Nothing new. Mr. Fellner has been ill in bed several days, quite
seriously ill, they tell me. The janitor seems very fond of him.

"Hm - we'll see what sort of a man he is. You can go back to the
station now, you must be nearly frozen standing here."

Muller looked carefully at the house which bore the number 14. It
was a handsome, old-fashioned building, a true patrician mansion
which looked worthy of all confidence. But Muller knew that the
outside of a house has very little to do with the honesty of the