“Sure is — these three are all that’s left.”

“Thanks,” the doctor said, ruefully.

“There any trouble, doc?”

“There’s a sick man,” the doctor answered, “If that’s trouble.”

“It’s trouble for someone,” the red cap answered, and his wrinkled face and his dark eyes had a tinge of sadness. “You suppose anyone’s come to meet the sick person, doc?”

“If they have they may be able to help us,” replied the doctor.

But no one had come to meet the man, and after many inquiries and some three hours after the aircraft had landed, a sergeant from the Long Island Homicide Squad and the man in charge of security at the airport, the young doctor and the pilot, met in a room leading off the hospital. Each had a copy of the typewritten report, prepared by the Security Officer after checking with everyone concerned and after going through the passenger’s pockets.

It was remarkably comprehensive :

Passenger’s name: Thomas G. Loman

Age: 28

Passport: U.S.A.

Condition: Unconscious from morphine poisoning

Period of unconsciousness: Estimated at one hour after removal from aircraft

Physical condition: Excellent

Operation or accident scars: None

Eyes: Blue

Complexion: Fair

Hair: Yellow

Possessions in pockets: Keys; coins; wallet containing $1,001.1; passport

Travellers cheques: $5,000

Destination: London, England

Continuation flight (shown on ticket): B.O.A.C. 505 22.30 from Kennedy

Baggage in hold (on ticket): None

Hand Baggage: None

Given address in London (on ticket): c/o Richard Rollison, 25g Gresham Terrace, W.1

Other particulars: Suspected needle puncture, right forearm. No other punctures.

All the men in the office read this carefully, the Security Officer finishing first. He looked at the others and when the pilot’s eyes were raised from the paper, said in a deep voice :