“I don’t,” said Maclain. “Maybe Corman.”

“What makes you think that?”

“It’s an idea I got when Walsh told Burzak to get Lieutenant Corman personally and to tell him exactly what had happened—that they had been parked down there on 303 at the crossroads, had seen me get off the truck, had driven up with their lights off, and had nailed me. It sounded like an awful lot of yackety-yak to send in on a murder call.”

“Do you have any proof, Captain Maclain?” Yerkes’s voice was grim.

“Plenty, but I haven’t much time to tell you—somebody has just started pounding on the door. I guess they’ve got the lights back on.

“Walsh and Burzak saw me come in, decided it was a good time to rub out Nick and hang it on someone they thought was only a bum. Right now I look like one. Burzak put on Nick’s hat, coat, and overalls—he found them in the washroom inside the side entrance. Then he came around through the front, shot Nick, and took a look in the cash register. I think he wanted that list Nick had talked about, but Nick had cleaned out the cash drawer and hidden the stuff after the warning call.

“Burzak was scarcely out of the diner when Walsh came in and put me under a gun. It was the world’s fastest piece of police work, Colonel.

“Anyway, Burzak had dressed up to look like Nick and had blasted him. Mrs. Gherigis saw a man through the window of the pantry door and thought it was Nick. She still doesn’t know Nick’s dead.”

“You sound pretty sure, Maclain.”

“Of course I’m sure; get this, Colonel: five of us were here. Nick was shot. Mrs. Gherigis couldn’t have done it—she was back of a door and out of range of vision. I didn’t, and Walsh is tall and thin—too tall to get Nick’s things on and be mistaken for him by Nick’s wife. Five minus four equals one—Burzak.”

“Just a second, Captain Maclain. What evidence have you got?”

“I think you’ll find Nick’s list of names in the deep-freeze, Colonel—I heard the lid clang. Your laboratory can prove that Burzak had Nick’s clothes on. . . I’d better hang up now—they’re breaking the door.”

“One more second,” Yerkes pleaded. “Can you prove that Burzak and Walsh were there all the time—from before the murder?”

“I have to hurry, Colonel. Burzak’s and Walsh’s police car hasn’t moved from right beside this diner since before 11:30 when it started to rain. Everything around here is soaking but it’s bone dry under their car.”

“I’ll be right over,” said Yerkes. “Is there anything I can bring you?”