“We’ll get around to that,” I told him and turned to the boy. “You’re an ex-boyfriend of Dinah’s who was given the air. You’re the only one who knew her intimately who could have known about the certified check in time to phone Mrs. Willsson and Thaler. Willsson was shot with a .32. Banks like that caliber. Maybe the gun you used wasn’t a bank gun, but I think it was. Maybe you didn’t put it back. Then there’ll be one missing. Anyway I’m going to have a gun expert put his microscopes and micrometers on the bullets that killed Willsson and bullets fired from all the bank guns.”

The boy looked calmly at me and said nothing. He had himself under control again. That wouldn’t do. I had to be nasty. I said:

“You were cuckoo over the girl. You confessed to me that it was only because she wouldn’t stand for it that you didn’t⁠—”

“Don’t⁠—please don’t,” he gasped. His face was red again.