“Again, I am sorry. All this is futile, Mr. Gertstein,” said Labar, and his lips set in a hard line. “I cannot swerve from my duty as I see it. You may rely upon me to save you as much as I can. But while I take my pay I do my job.”

“Very well. You will let me know what happens.”

With relief Labar saw that he had reached the end of the matter for the time. He rose. “Of course. Believe me, I hate this. There is one more thing. I suppose you don’t recall a man in your service named Stebbins?”

Gertstein’s small beady eyes fixed themselves steadily on the detective’s face. “I don’t know the names of half my servants,” he observed.

“Ah, then I must find out from the butler or the housekeeper or someone.”