“Yes, I did go through the summary,” Bony admitted. “I didn’t go into the statements and reports because I like to keep my mind as free as possible from cluttering data. So, you see, I know next to nothing beyond that the medical report indicates that both victims were strangled by the same man. I would like you to tell me about it.”

The two policemen looked at each other.

“You relate the facts, Sawtell,” urged Walters. He turned to Bony. “Sawtell specialises with the Asians and the locals. Pedersen, who’s away, is the bush expert. We’re all a bit sore, youknow, that this bird got away with two murders. It bashes our pride. I’d like to ask a question.”

“Certainly. Go ahead.”

“Is it true that you have never failed to finalise a case?”

“Quite true,” replied Bony, and neither man could detect vanity in him. “It’s true because so far I’ve never been pitted against a clever murderer. It is my great good fortune that there is no such person as a clever murderer.”

Walters smiled frostily.

“This one is too clever for us, and for the Perth men, too,” he confessed. “The fellow we’re up against is as clever as the Devil.”

Bony was engaged in rolling one of his dreadful cigarettes.

“If your murderer is as clever as the Devil, who according to the authorities is high above par…”

“This fellow’s well above par, sir,” interrupted Sawtell, whose light blue eyes held fire. “He’s so far above par that he doesn’t leave finger-prints, he doesn’t murder for gain, he never makes the mistake of being seen immediately before and after his crimes, and he doesn’t leave foot tracks for our boys to fasten on to.”

“It promises more and more,” Bony almost whispered.“Your boys in the top grade?”

“Yes. Pedersen swears by two of ’em. He should know, for they accompany him on his routine patrols as well as on special jobs.”