That brick is nowhere to be found. There are a dozen murderers known to the police, a dozen assassins walking the pavements of London convicted in the eyes of justice, yet they are immune. Their tombs are already constructed, but are incomplete, wanting just one, or maybe two, little bricks. In the words of the police, “No jury would convict.” In the case of Klein it was different. The case was complete against him of having been a prime mover in the Gyde and Lefarge affairs. Once safely lodged in gaol, Freyberger felt that the whole truth would be extracted from him. What a case it would be! What a triumph for the man who had worked in it and completed it single-handed. Whatever Klein’s diabolical methods might be, Freyberger was certain of one thing—that their extraordinary nature would astonish Europe. All that had to be done now was to capture this man—and he had vanished. It will be remembered that Freyberger had objected strongly to the publication of Klein’s photograph. Even still he upheld this objection, and the chief had not pressed the matter, having much respect for the opinion of his subordinate. But as week followed week, without sign or movement on the part of the man they were after, the patience of the chief began to give. On the evening of May 9 it snapped. “We have given him now a very considerable time,” he said, during a conversation with his subordinate. “We have given him a good long rope to hang himself with.” “Yes, sir,” replied the other, “and I know it has been by my advice.” “Well, what is your advice now?” “To give him a little more. Who knows, he may be, even at this moment, making the noose for his own neck.” “I will give him three days more.” “Three days?” “If he does not show himself in that time his portrait and description will be published broadcast. We have waited too long.” “I am sorry you think that, sir?” “Oh, I am not casting any reflection on your judgement. I believe with you that this man will efface himself, or try to efface himself, fully, when he sees his portrait in every news-sheet, but there is the chance that he will fail. Besides, Freyberger, I am not sure that the course we have already taken is one absolutely moral.” “How so, sir?” “We have refrained from alarming this man.” “Yes.” “By doing so we have, well, to put it plainly, given him the incentive to commit another murder.” “That is what I have been waiting for, sir, and I have no qualms at all in the matter. If this man lives, it is inevitable that he must murder. Far better is it that he should commit one more crime and be taken, than that he should escape now, take warning that he is watched, amend his methods and enter on a new campaign of infamy.