nor even whether they were sent from the city or from some other town.
Winkler received other letters now and then, but his landlady was not of
the prying kind, and she had paid very little attention to them.

He seemed to have few friends or even acquaintances. She did not know
of any love affair, at least of nothing "regular." He had remained
away over night two or three times during the year that he had been
her tenant. This was about all that Mrs. Klingmayer could say, and she
returned to her home in a cab furnished her by the kind commissioner.

About two hours later, a police attendant announced that a gentleman
would like to see Dr. von Riedan on business concerning the murder in
Hietzing. "Friedrich Bormann" was the name on the card.

"Ask him to step in here," said the commissioner. "And please ask Mr.
Muller to join us."

The good-looking young clerk entered the office bashfully and Muller
slipped in behind him, seating himself inconspicuously by the door. At a
sign from the commissioner the visitor began. "I am an employee of Braun
& Co. I have the desk next to Leopold Winkler, during the year that he
has been with us--the year and a quarter to be exact--"

"Ah, then you know him rather well?"

"Why, yes. At least we were together all day, although I never met him
outside the office."

"Then you cannot tell us much about his private life?"

"No, sir, but there was something happened on Monday, and in talking it
over with Mr. Braun, he suggested that I should come to you and tell you
about it. It wasn't really very important, and it doesn't seem as if it
could have anything to do with this murder and robbery; still it may be
of some use."

"Everything that would throw light on the dead man's life could be of
use," said Dr. von Riedau. "Please tell us what it is you know."

Fritz Bormann began: "Winkler came to the office as usual on Monday
morning and worked steadily at his desk. But I happened to notice that
he spoiled several letters and had to rewrite them, which showed me
that his thoughts were not on his work, a frequent occurrence with him.
However, everything went along as usual until 11 o'clock. Then Winkler
became very uneasy. He looked constantly toward the door, compared his
watch with the office clock, and sprang up impatiently as the special
letter carrier, who usually comes about 11 with money orders, finally
appeared."

"Then he was expecting money you think?"

"It must have been