Even on the 5th of May, the slights cast upon the Inspector were commented upon by some of the officers in the Central. Some of the officers friendly to the incompetents would declare that Bonfield did not know his business and that he was to blame for the killing of the officers, but there were others who took a different view and regretted that he was not kept continually at work on the case. In fact, the only ones about the building, after the incompetent heads took charge, who showed a willingness to work and who tried to do their duty, were Officers James Bonfield, Palmer and Slayton. All the rest looked scared, absent-minded and indifferent. On the next morning—May 6—I was again at the Central Headquarters. I learned then how deep and wide-spread was the spirit that pervaded the department. Nothing was done, and nothing was proposed to be done. I also learned of the treatment accorded Officer Palmer by the lieutenants in charge of the department. The whole trouble appeared to be that no one cared about doing anything, and that if any one had the temerity to bring information in, he would be kicked out. While such was the stupidity or the lethargy of the head officials, I was powerless to act. I could not take the case away from my superior officer on information rejected and spurned by those in authority about police headquarters, and I almost despaired of ever seeing the culprits brought to punishment. An incident occurred, however, which changed the whole course of events. On my way home to supper that evening, about six o’clock—May 6—I met a man near my house. He acted as though greatly frightened, but he had some information he wished to impart to me. He was afraid to speak, as he said it was life or death to him. “If I speak,” he said, “and these people [the Anarchists] find it out, they will kill me sure. On the other hand, when I think of how many were killed, it drives me nearly crazy. I can probably help to bring the murderers to justice, and I cannot forgive myself unless I try to assist.”