“Sworn,” I said.

“How’s that, Bernie?”

“I like the phrase,” I said. “A sworn police officer. I like it.”

“Well, be my guest, Bernie. Use it anytime the urge comes over you. Say, tell me something, will you?

“If I can.”

“Ever seen this before?”

He’d been holding it out of sight below the counter.

“Indeed I have,” I said. “Many times. It’s my attaché case. How do you know Hugo, and why has he got you running errands for him?”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about, errands?”

“Well, what else would you call it? I told him he didn’t have to be in any rush to return it.” I reached for the case, and Ray snatched it away from me. I looked at him, puzzled. “What’s going on?” I demanded. “Are you giving me the damn thing or aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He set it down flat on the counter, settled his thumbs on the little buttons. “What do you figure’s inside?”

“The Empire State Building.”

“Huh?”

“The Lindbergh baby. How many more guesses do I get? I don’t know what’s inside it, Ray. When Hugo Candlemas left here the other day there were some hand-colored engravings he didn’t want to risk creasing, along with a couple of other packages he’d picked up along the way.”

“I didn’t know you sold pictures, Bernie.”

“I don’t,” I said. “Don’t ask me where he bought them. All I sold him was a book of poems for five bucks plus tax.”

“And you threw in this here? Very generous of you.”

“I lent it to him, Ray. He’s a decent old gent and a good customer. I can’t pay the rent on guys like him, but he’s pleasant company and he usually buys something before he leaves. Why? What’s this all about, anyway?”

He popped the locks, opened the case.

“Why, it seems to be empty,” I said. “Nice showmanship, Ray, but a little bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?”