“He’s scared to death,” Lucy said flatly.

“How well do you know Jasper Groat?”

“Just to say hello to him. I’ve known Mrs. Groat casually for a couple of years… ever since they moved into this building. That’s why she called me tonight when she didn’t know what else to do.”

The elevator stopped at the bottom and they got out. As they approached the desk, the gray-haired operator at the switchboard swung about to look at them inquiringly.

Shayne stopped in front of the desk and put both palms down flat on top of it. He asked, “Do you keep a record of long-distance calls?”

“Outgoing… yes.” Her tired eyes questioned him.

He said briskly, “Police business,” opening his wallet and giving her a glimpse of his credentials as a private detective. “Mr. Groat in four-fourteen made a long-distance call this evening. Can you tell me who he called?”

She said, “The police? Well, I… just a moment.” She swiveled away from him and consulted a clipboard. “It was person-to-person to Mrs. Leon Wallace in Littleboro.”

Shayne leaned an elbow on the desk and lit a cigarette. He said, “I realize this isn’t a public telephone, but… could you put a call through to Mrs. Wallace and let me pay you for it?”

She said primly, “There’s a telephone booth in the corner over there.”

Shayne said, “Thank you,” and went to the booth. He dialed operator and told her what he wanted. She got information, and finally a Littleboro number for Mrs. Wallace, but the number did not answer after she rang it eight times. Shayne told her to cancel the call, and emerged from the booth tugging thoughtfully at his left ear lobe.

Lucy jumped up from a chair in which she had been waiting, and clung to his arm as he went out the door. “What has Mrs. Leon Wallace in Littleboro got to do with it, Michael?”