``Not since last night. I didn't think there was any reason to.''

``Maybe there isn't. Speak to him again anyway. Try talking to some of the fellows he works with, friends, anyone. Try to find out how happy he is with his wife, whether he plays around with women. You might try looking into his wife too. She might have been talking to some of her friends about her husband if they've been having any trouble.''

``You think Black's the one we're looking for?''

``Yeah. I think he might be,'' Conrad said grimly. ``Then again he might not.''

``What a stinking world,'' Rourke said. ``Black is Gilborn's best friend.''

``I know.''

``Will you be coming back soon?''

``I think so. I'm on my way to see the Jacobs woman.''

``Gilborn's secretary? What for? You don't think Gilborn is the --?''

``I don't think anything. I just don't want to go off half cocked before picking up Black, that's all.'' Conrad interrupted. ``Gilborn says he was in his office all day with her yesterday. I'd like to make sure. Also, it's just possible she might know something about Mrs. Gilborn.''

``Right. I'll see you later.''

``Aren't you ever going to go home?''

``It sure as hell doesn't look like it, does it? I'm telling you, if these corpses ever knew the trouble they put us to, they'd think twice before letting themselves get knocked off.''

``Remember to tell that to the next corpse you meet.''

Conrad hung up and sat on the small telephone-booth bench, massaging his right leg.