sure
until Doc Prouty does the post on her."

I took a firm grip on my temper. I should have been notified as soon
as Homicide had been; I should have been there with the Homicide
Squad. But I knew that if I said anything, Kleek would just say,
"Hell, Roy, they don't notify me until there's suspicion of homicide,
and you don't get a call until there's suspicion that it might be the
work of a degenerate. That's the way the system works. You know that,
Roy." And rather than hear that song-and-dance again, I gave myself
thirty seconds to think.

"I'll meet you at the morgue," I said. "Your men can get the whole
story at the scene without my help."

That mollified him, and it showed a little on his face. "O.K., Roy,
see you there." And he cut off.

I punched savagely at the numbered buttons on the phone to get an
intercommunication hookup with Dr. Barton Brownlee's office, on the
third floor of the same building as my own office. His face, when it
came on, was a calming contrast to Kleek's.

[Illustration]

He's nearly ten years younger than I am, not yet thirty-five, and his
handsome, thoughtful face and dark, slightly wavy hair always make me
think of somebody like St. Edward Pusey or maybe Albert Einstein. Not
that he looks like either one of them, or even that he looks saintly,
but he does look like a man who has the courage of his convictions
and is calmly, quietly, but forcefully ready to shove what he knows to
be the truth down everybody else's throat if that becomes necessary.
Or maybe I am just reading into his face what I know to be true about
the man himself.

"Brownie," I said, "they've found the Donahue girl. Taking her down to
the morgue now. Want to come along?"

"I don't think so," he said without hesitation. "I'll get all the
information I need from the photos and the reports. The man I do want
to see is the killer; I need more data, Roy--always more data. The
more my boys and I know about these zanies, the more effectively we
can deal with them."

"I know. O.K.; I've got to run." I cut off, grabbed my hat, and headed
out to fulfill my part of the bargain Brownlee and I had once made.
"You find 'em," he'd once said, "and I'll fix 'em." So far, that
bargain had paid off.

* * * * *

I got to the morgue a few minutes after the body was brought in. The
man at the front desk looked up at me as I walked in and gave me a
bored smile. "Evening, Inspector. The Donahue