“I lost him, Sergeant,” Boyle reported softly.
“So did I, Boyle,” Watters said.
“Sorry, Sergeant,” Boyle sounded disappointed.
“It can’t be helped,” Watters cursed quietly. “We’ll get him next time.”
Duff and Scuddamore arrived, looking disconsolate. “He escaped,” Scuddamore said.
Once again, Watters’ quarry had eluded him. Twice now, he had set a trap, and twice he had failed. Perhaps Lieutenant Anstruther was correct, and he should rely on the painstaking, inch-by-inch detective work rather than on his more unorthodox methods.
* * *
The draper’s shop was a mess, with the desk splintered where the thief had smashed the lock.
“This doesn’t look like the same culprit,” Watters said. “That’s not Abernethy’s style.”
“Maybe somebody else was working last night,” Duff knelt beside the
