"
"Sure," answered O'Connor, and within five minutes we were hurrying
down town in one of the department automobiles.
We found the office under guard of one of the Central Office men,
while in the outside office Parker's confidential clerk and a few
assistants were still at work in a subdued and awed manner. Men were
working in many other Wall Street offices that night during the panic,
but in none was there more reason for it than here. Later I learned
that it was the quiet tenacity of this confidential clerk that saved
even as much of Parker's estate as was saved for his widow--little
enough it was, too. What he saved for the clients of the firm no one
will ever know. Somehow or other I liked John Downey, the clerk, from
the moment I was introduced to him. He seemed to me, at least, to be
the typical confidential clerk who would carry a secret worth millions
and keep it.
The officer in charge touched his hat to the inspector, and Downey
hastened to put himself at our service. It was plain that the murder
had completely mystified him, and that he was as anxious as we were to
get at the bottom of it.
"Mr. Downey," began Kennedy, "I understand you were present when this
sad event took place."
"Yes, sir, sitting right here at the directors' table," he replied,
taking a chair, "like this."
"Now can you recollect just how Mr. Parker acted when he was shot?
Could you--er--could you take his place and show us just how it
happened?"
"Yes, sir," said Downey.
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