called out: ‘Haven’t you anything for me?’ and as the man shook his head Winkler seemed greatly disappointed and depressed. Before he left to go to lunch, he wrote a hasty letter, which he put in his pocket.
“He came in half an hour later than the rest of us. He had often been reprimanded for his lack of punctuality, but it seemed to do no good. He was almost always late. Monday was no exception, although he was later than usual that day.”
“And what sort of a mood was he in when he came back?”
“He was irritable and depressed. He seemed to be awaiting a message which did not come. His excitement hindered him from working, he scarcely did anything the entire afternoon. Finally at five o’clock a messenger boy came with a letter for him. I saw that Winkler turned pale as he took the note in his hand. It seemed to be only a few words written hastily on a card, thrust into an envelope. Winkler’s teeth were set as he opened the letter. The messenger had already gone away.”
“Did you notice his number?” asked Dr. von Riedau.
“No, I scarcely noticed the man at all. I was looking at Winkler, whose behaviour was so peculiar. When he read the card his face brightened. He read it through once more, then he tore both card and envelope into little bits and threw the pieces out of the open window.
“Then he evidently did not want anybody to see the contents of this note,” said a voice from the corner of the room.
Fritz Bormann looked around astonished and rather doubtful at the little man who had risen from his chair and now came forward. Without waiting for an answer from the clerk, the other continued: “Did Winkler have money sent him frequently?”
Bormann looked inquiringly at the commissioner, who replied with a smile: “You may answer. Answer anything that Mr. Muller has to ask of you, as he is in charge of this case.”
“As far as I can remember, it happened three times,” was Bormann’s answer.
“How close together?”
“Why—about once in every three or four months, I think.”
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