Cardoza instructed Agent Polcuch to hide the sacks of heroin under his jacket when leaving the ship and to take them to the Customs Bureau’s laboratory at 408 Atlantic Avenue for an analysis. “Tell them it’s a rush job, Oscar, and we would like to know the results as soon as possible. They can reach us at the Customs House this afternoon.” It was almost noon when Halvorsen walked down the gangway alone and strolled over to the bus stop. The youth boarded the bus and did not even glance at Cardoza and Finnegan when they brushed by him. No one spoke to him on the bus nor did anyone approach him as he sat in the restaurant sipping a glass of milk. Cardoza and Finnegan lounged in the doorway of a building opposite the restaurant, from where they could see Halvorsen seated at a table. When it seemed apparent that no one had followed him from the waterfront, they took Halvorsen to the Customs House for questioning. The longer they talked to him, the more certain they were that he was telling the truth. During the afternoon, Cardoza received a telephone call from Acting Chief Chemist Melvin Lerner at the Bureau’s laboratory. “The stuff is heroin, all right,” Lerner said. “It’s a very high grade. What do you want us to do with it?” “Make the usual report,” Cardoza said, “and hang onto those sacks until we decide what to do next. We may need them in making a case against the buyer. And thanks.” The questioning of Halvorsen continued until after midnight. When the session was over, the penitent young man knew that his personal nightmare was nearing an end and that there was a way to atone for what he had done. The whole sorry mess could be washed out by helping the Customs agents trap the receiver in San Francisco--the man named Lew Gar Kung Saw. Agent Finnegan accompanied Halvorsen from the Customs building to the _Fernhill_ and left him. It was agreed he would remain aboard the ship until it reached New York harbor. By that time a decision would be made on the next move. On May 23, one week after the arrival of the _Fernhill_ in Boston harbor, Agents Cardoza, Polcuch and Finnegan met with their chief, Lawrence Fleishman, at their headquarters at 21 Varick Street in New York City. Fleishman was a lean man with graying hair who had been doing battle with gangs of smugglers, crooked importers, and international con men for almost thirty years. Long ago he had lost count of the number of crooks he had helped send to prison, and the millions of dollars involved in these cases. But he had never lost his enthusiasm for matching wits with those he called “the bastards.” At this moment, Halvorsen was seeing the sights of New York in company with a young Customs agent. He had been taken from the _Fernhill_ when the ship reached New York harbor and he had registered in a midtown hotel to wait for the next move in the game.