nine o'clock
And so , with Sohmer soundly sleeping , whether well or illy , `` after life 's fitful fever , '' the foxy Viennese rejoiced in his assigned ground-lease , Sohmer 's business , and the gold mine of the hidden pool-room , gambling den and disguised harem of No. 192 Layte Street . Fritz Braun had allowed a few months to pass before he secretly opened the party walls between the two buildings to allow his choicest patrons to enter No. 192 Layte Street all unobserved ; but , for reasons of his own , he had made one or two private alterations in the two buildings which enabled him to enter the different floors by his own judiciously veiled private entrances . The cellar of No. 192 Layte Street had been piped for cold-storage of the wines and beer of the `` Valkyrie '' under Fritz Braun 's own supervision when he gave up the basement of the `` Valkyrie '' to the kitchens of the restaurant , which drew the attractive women of the quarter into the safest possible association with their victims crowding the `` Valkyrie '' saloon . A vigilant business man , August Meyer came each evening to settle the days ' affairs and personally watch the money mill next door , which ran noiselessly on golden wheels from nine o'clock till midnight . No one had Meyer 's confidence ; he left no tell-tale papers to connect him with the gruff pharmacist of Sixth Avenue , and at midnight he always vanished to his own private home , a diligently guarded terra incognita to all men . A sphinx-like `` Oberkellner '' received the orders of the proprietor each evening ; a steward of equal taciturnity `` ran '' the restaurant , and August Meyer himself , with autocratic power , directed the villainous operations of No. 192 Layte Street . Popular with the police , exact in his monthly settlements with the ground landlords and the despotic brewery king , Fritz Braun avoided both the failings which had wrecked the golden fortunes of the dead Sohmer .