He shrugged. “As soon as we've had the police photographer take pictures and we've removed the body.”
“What about all these papers?’ I blurted out, then wished I hadn't. “Shouldn't someone go through diem? It's fairly obvious that the intruder was searching for something and didn't find it, or he'd not have been lingering in the back room after he killed Paddy.”
For the first time Wolski looked at me as if I was a human being and not a creature of a lower order. He nodded. “I'll have a man go through everything. But it's probably not worth the effort. You said yourself he was involved with several cases. We have no way of knowing what particular piece of information might be important enough to somebody that they had to kill for it. I'm still going on the assumption that it was a hired killer. Whoever killed him knew what he was doing—thin blade, through the heart. That's assassin's work.” He kicked up another flurry of papers. “It'll turn out to be one of the gangs—you'll see. They think that Paddy passed on information to the police and this is how they repay that kind of thing. Too bad.”
“Yes,” I said, looking down at Paddy's body. “Too bad.” It was fast becoming obvious that this supercilious sergeant wasn't going to put himself out to find Paddy's killer.
“And you'll be looking for fingerprints, no doubt?” I couldn't resist adding.
The icy stare returned. “Are you trying to teach me my job?”
I returned to my humble female mode. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply—”
“Not much point really,” he said. “If the man knew what he was doing, he'd be careful not to leave any prints.”
I tried to recall whether the hand that swung at me had been wearing gloves, but it had all happened too quickly. However, I wasn't going to give up too lightly on this. “But he could have left a print on the window ledge on his way out.”
“You're persistent, aren't you. I suggest you take yourself off home and leave the detective work to trained professionals.”
He wasn't asking for my prints, which I would have done, if I'd been in charge of the case. I looked around the room. “I'll be happy to help you go through the papers myself,” I said. “Maybe something might strike me.”
“We'll call you if we need you. And you'll be notified when we're through with our investigation so that you can come and clean up the place.”
So I was to be confined to the role of charwoman. “If I'm to get back in to clean up the place, I'll need a key.”
“Where are the keys kept, do you know?”
“In one of his pockets, I think. I could take it and have a copy made, so that you keep the original, in case you need to get back in.”
“I'll have one of my men do it. His pocket, you say?” Paddy's jacket was hanging on the hook on the wall, along with his brown derby. Wolski went over to it and fished through the pockets. Then I remembered Paddy producing money from his vest pocket. It was just possible that… Cautiously I slipped my fingers into the vest pocket. Luckily it was on the side away from his wound. I felt several coins and then my fingers closed around something sharp and metal.
“I think I've—” I began when Wolski exclaimed, “Ah, here we are. This must be it,” and held up a large door key. I looked down at the object in my hand. A much smaller key, shiny, new. My fingers closed around it again. The key to the file cabinet. The intruder had tipped it on its side, maybe in a frustrated attempt to get it open. No doubt the police would find a way to open it, if they were interested. If they weren't, then I'd take a look for myself.
Nine
More policemen had arrived by the time Sergeant Wolski let me go. One of them was setting up a tripod and a flash holder to take pictures of the scene with an old-fashioned hooded camera.
“Poor old Paddy,” I heard one of them mutter. “Who'd a thunk it. He was the type who knew how to take care of himself.”
Watching them made me remember Paddy's camera. He would surely have taken it to capture evidence that night at Delmonico's. Might it contain a vital clue? I thought of looking around for it quietly, without mentioning it to the police, then my better side won out.
“Paddy had a camera,” I told Wolski. “A little box Brownie. It might be important.”
Wolski's eyes registered instant interest. “A camera, you say? Any idea where?”
I shook my head. “Who can say in all this mess?”
He gave a little nod. “Thank you. We'll bear that in mind. Good day to you, Miss Murphy. Constable, show Miss Murphy out.”