"We'll need more identification than this picture," I said, handing it back to her. "Have the agent meet us here. I'll be back within the hour with everything that he will need for the investigation." I slipped a toolkit into my pocket before leaving. The city morgue was not too distant-which will give you a good idea of the kind of neighborhood this is-and I went through a back window and three locked doors without slowing down. I pick locks the way others pick their teeth.

I slid out the drawer of the cooler and stared down at the corpse. The glimmering hope that he might be familiar in the frozen flesh vanished. The mystery remained. It took but seconds to scrape off fragments of skin, clip hair samplesand extract dirt from under the man's nails. His clothes had been carefully filed and labeled by the police. I located them and took samples of these as well. And still more scrapings from his shoes. After this I went out the way that I had gotten in-and no one knew of either my arrival or departure. This minor operation had gone so smoothly that I returned to the safe house just as the Special Corps agent was letting himself in through the public convenience.

"Nice weather today, Mr. diGriz," he said, adjusting his clothing.

"It's always nice on Blodgett, Charley. That's why I hate it. When is the next shipment going out to headquarters?" "A couple of hours. The weekly bag. I'm taking it myself." "Perfect. I want you to take along these containers. Tell the lab to use every possible test on these samples. Here's a picture of the late deceased that I took them from.