“May be tomorrow, may not be until Monday. We’ve got to arrange for the autopsy and see the coroner.”

“I get you,” said Mr. Fish. “Under the circumstances, though, it will be a melancholy party.”

Battle led the way to the door.

“We’d best get out of here,” he said. “We’re keeping it locked still.”

He waited for the other two to pass through, and then turned the key and removed it.

“I opine,” said Mr. Fish, “that you are seeking for fingerprints?”

“Maybe,” said the superintendent laconically.