“It’s beginning to make sense,” Shayne admitted. “The jewel case will be empty, I suppose?”

“My wife’s maid will testify that all her jewels, which are conservatively appraised at two hundred thousand dollars, were in the case when she retired,” the broker told him blandly.

“Also insured for two hundred grand?”

“Why, yes. One naturally carries insurance on such costly articles.”

“Quite naturally,” Shayne murmured. “I gather you don’t plan to explain to the insurance company that you have removed the jewels before the empty case is stolen.”

“Not empty, Mr. Shayne. There will be a thousand-dollar bill in the bottom of the case.”

Shayne lit a fresh cigarette from the smoldering butt of his old one. In a conversational tone he said, “A lot of people don’t seem to think there’s anything crooked about cheating an insurance company-or a railroad company-or the government. That’s a peculiar side of human nature I’ve never quite been able to understand.”

“I think it’s natural, Mr. Shayne. It’s a sort of feeling of retaliation because we’ve been cheated by them. After paying exorbitant premiums to an insurance company for a number of years a man feels little compunction in endeavoring to collect dividends on his investment.”

Shayne nodded casually. He got up casually. “I won’t touch it, Thrip. I happen to be retained on a yearly contract as investigator for one of the large insurance companies to run down just such frauds as you’re planning, and I don’t bite the hand that feeds me. And I’m getting sick and tired of having men like you come to me with your crooked deals. It’s Painter’s fault, of course. I’m going to kick his rump up between his shoulder blades one of these days. Good afternoon.” He turned away, jamming his hat down hard on his head.