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In each box was a number to send the cash to. That turned out to be a box somewhere, too.”
    That I couldn’t figure. Pat turned and sat down again before he went on, but I beat him to it with a question.
    â€œSomething screwy, Pat. The whole thing’s backwards. The stuff is usually paid for in advance, with the peddlers hoping they come through with enough decks to make money on it.”
    Pat lit a butt and nodded vigorously. “Exactly. That’s one reason why we had trouble. Undoubtedly there’s stuff sitting in post-office boxes right now loaded to the brims with the junk. It isn’t an amateur’s touch, either. The stuff came in too regularly. The source was plentiful. We managed to dig up a few old containers that hadn’t been destroyed by the receiver and there were no two postmarks alike.”
    â€œThat wouldn’t be hard to work if it was a big outfit.”
    â€œApparently they had no trouble. But we had operatives in the towns the stuff was sent from and they went over the places with a fine-tooth comb. Nothing was turned up. They checked the transient angle since it was the only way it could have been done. Busses and trains went through these towns, and it’s possible that the packages could have been dropped off by a person posing as a traveler. Each place was used once. So there was no way of telling where the next one was coming from.”
    â€œI get the picture, Pat. Since the last outfit was pulled, have they found any other sources?”
    â€œSome. But nothing they could connect with the last. Most of it was petty stuff with some hospital attendant sneaking it out of stock and peddling it on the outside.”
    â€œSo far you haven’t told me where Myrna comes into this. I appreciate the information, but we’re not getting anyplace. What you’ve given me is strictly police stuff.”
    Pat gave me a long, searching glance. His eyes were screwed up tight like he was thinking. I knew that look well. “Tell me,” he said, “hasn’t it occurred to you that Jack, being a cop, could have welshed on his promise to Myrna? He hated crooks and sneaks, but most of all he hated the dirty rats that used people like Myrna to line their own pockets.”
    â€œSo what?” I asked.
    â€œSo this. He was in on things in the beginning. He might have been holding back something on us. Or he might have gotten something from Myrna we didn’t know about. Either he spoke up at the wrong moment or he didn’t. But somebody was afraid of what he knew and bumped him.” I yawned. I hated to disillusion Pat but he was wrong. “Fellow, you are really mixed up. Let me show you where. First, classify all murders. There are only a few. War, Passion, Self-Protection, Insanity Profit and Mercy Killings. There are some others, but these are enough. To me it looks like Jack was killed either for profit or self-protection. I don’t doubt but what he had something on someone. It must have been something he had known all along, and suddenly realized its importance, or it was something he recently found out. You know how active he was in police work even though he was disabled and attached to the job with the insurance company.
    â€œWhatever it was, he apparently wanted to make a choice. That’s why you heard nothing about it. The killer had to have something he had, and killed to get it. But you searched the place, didn’t you?” Pat agreed with a movement of the eyes. “And there was nothing removed, was there?” He shook his head. “Then,” I went on, “unless it was something Jack had outside, which I doubt, it wasn’t a killing for profit. The killer knew that Jack had some poop which would mean exposure or worse. To protect himself, the killer knocked Jack off. Self-protection.”
    I picked up my battered hat from the desk and stretched. “Got to blow, pal. Since I’m not on an expense