Lieutenant Valcour threw a bland look to Cassidy, who was standing in as convenient a position to the hall door as he could possibly get.
“They say,” Andrews went on, “that adrenaline’s been used off and on for years. Worth says they try it quite often when a baby is born ‘dead.’ Sometimes it starts the heart pumping and the baby lives.”
Lieutenant Valcour shrugged. “It will make things pretty simple for us if it works with Endicott,” he said. “He can make a statement and prefer charges himself. Where is everybody?”
“The medical examiner and Worth are downstairs telephoning and making arrangements for the operation. My men have finished and have gone back to headquarters. There wasn’t any sign of forcing an entry, so it looks like an inside job, if there was any job. I tell you, Valcour, if it wasn’t for your suggestion that robbery was a motive, or for that note that might have been a threat, I’d drop the whole thing. It’s a different matter if the adrenaline doesn’t work and an autopsy proves poison or something. Find out much from Mrs. Endicott?”
“Enough to be interested in learning more. Want the details?”
“Later, if I have to get to work on the case. You want to keep on handling it?”
“Yes.”
“Go ahead. Call for any outside stuff you want us to check up on for you. I’ll send you a report on the brushes and comb as soon as they finish with them downtown.”
“You going, Chief?”
“No use in my sticking around, Valcour. We haven’t a case yet, really, that calls for any Central Office work. Hell, according to those two six-syllable