"We’ve got to begin lower down," concluded Leighton, "and work up." He began immediately. He found that, in violation of the law, cocaine was sold at scores of places on the East Side, and that the use of the drug was spreading alarmingly. Against these retailers he proceeded with all the vigor he had shown in his larger and less productive efforts. Evidence to convict the sources of supply was hard to get, since those sources were high in Tammany politics, but small sellers and street peddlers were rushed to jail with such commendable speed that the trade soon seemed abolished. Luke appeared in some of these cases, and won most that he appeared in. He had been feeling the chill of disappointment, but this gave him fresh courage. One day, when Uhler was on vacation and Luke was taking the work of the absent man, he thought he saw the chance to approach "the people higher up," which they had all been waiting for. A gang-leader named Zantzinger had been dancing with his wife at a ball on the second floor of a house in Avenue A. As he waltzed past the door leading to the back stairs, a friend looked in and called Zantzinger aside. "Excuse me a minute," said the gangster to his wife. He left her and went to his friend. "Well?" he demanded. "Butch Dellitt’s down there," warned his friend, nodding toward the door. "His crowd’s after you ’cause they say you piped off Dutch’s brother-in-law’s poolroom to the fly cops. He says he’s goin’ to croak you." "Where is he?" "He’ll be ’round front when you come out." "Where is he now?" "Down back." "Down these stairs?" The friend nodded. Zantzinger walked to his wife. "I’ve got a little business below," he explained. "Wait here: I’ll be right back." He opened the door and descended the stairs. As he went, he drew his revolver. Dellitt was standing in the doorway, with his back to the stairs, smoking a cigarette. Without warning, Zantzinger shot him through the head. Then he returned to the ballroom, apologized to his wife for leaving her so hurriedly, and resumed his interrupted dance. This was the story that came to the homicide bureau. Luke took it at once to Leighton. "And this man Zantzinger," he reminded the District-Attorney, "is the right-hand man of the Tammany leader in that ward." "Who saw him?" asked Leighton. "Three men on the street." "Got their names?" "We can get them." "Is the coroner on the case?" Luke thought he was. Leighton shrugged. "Then that’ll be the end of it," he said. Luke could not credit this. "Oh, yes," said Leighton wearily, "I mean it. By the time he’s done with the case, he’ll see to it nobody knows anything. Why, man alive, that coroner’s the cousin of the ward leader." "But you’ll try?" urged Luke. "You’ll fight?" Leighton swung back in his swivel-chair. He put his feet on his desk and clasped his hands behind his head.