Labar abruptly laid down his magnifying glass and stared at his aide-de-camp. “Who was that?” he demanded.

A slow grin broke over the usual inexpressive features of Malone. He had an impish delight in sometimes startling his superior. “I thought it would interest you, guv’nor,” he said. “He didn’t know. The voice was that of a woman, and she said that she was telephoning on behalf of Gertstein.”

“A woman’s voice,” repeated the inspector, thoughtfully. He uncoiled his six feet from his chair, and stretched himself. “I’m all in, Bill,” he announced. “Let’s put up the shutters for the night. Nine o’clock sharp in the morning.”