want to accuse anybody else! I have no proof!"
"If you have even a suspicion it will be safe with me."
"Have you thought of the butler, Robert Hawkins?" she asked in a muffled voice.
"Hm, that's a new lead," said Lee.
"He was in a position to do it," she went on eagerly, "and it would explain why he tried to put it off on Al."
"What motive could Hawkins have had?"
"Personal motive? None! He was only a servant. But my husband had enemies. Men of great wealth. It would have been easy for one of them to get at Hawkins and to pay him, to pay him a great sum, perhaps, to do away with my husband."
"That's a possibility," said Lee. "I will investigate it."
"I understand that Hawkins has disappeared," she said.
"Only from the newspaper reporters. He has given the police his present address."
"Oh, he's a smooth customer," she said bitterly. "Don't be deceived by his snowy hair and his seeming honesty!"
"I am not easily deceived," said Lee mildly.
"He washes his hair with bluing to make it whiter," she said acidly. "My maid told me. It wouldn't do any good for you to talk to him. He would only lie."
"Naturally. I shall endeavor to find out if he has come into any money lately."
Mrs. Gartrey arose. "You must let me give you a check, Mr. Mappin. You shall name the amount yourself!"
Lee held up his hand. "Thank you, no! I have not yet taken the case."
Mrs. Gartrey's eyes never left his face. As they proceeded toward the door, she saw him looking at the masses of expensive flowers that filled the room, and murmured: "People will send flowers. And usually the people one doesn't much care for. It is so inconsiderate. Every box that comes administers a fresh stab!"
"Why don't you send them to a hospital?" he asked dryly.
"The senders usually call to extend their condolences. They would be offended if they didn't see their flowers."
Lee passed a huge bouquet of American Beauty roses with stems three feet long. Under the edge of the vase which contained them was caught the edge of a card--presumably the sender's. On it was written: "Deepest sympathy--Rulon."
"Mrs. Gartrey," said Lee, "why don't you address Mr. Yohe through the newspapers? Wherever he is, we may be sure that he reads them."
"How can I?" she murmured distressfully. "In the first shock of this awful happening I was so confused, so distracted, that I made the mistake of telling the police that he was just a casual acquaintance. You know better than that. I can't hide anything from you. But I trust you. You see, if the truth about what I feel came out now, it would only react against him."
There was something very flattering, very affecting in the sight of the famous beauty casting herself on his mercy like this. And she knows it! thought Lee. "I see," he said.
"But Mr. Mappin, I swear to you there has been no wrongdoing!" she protested.
"I accept it," said Lee. He took a pinch of snuff.
"I may say, though, that it wouldn't make the slightest difference to me if there had been."
She laid her hand lightly for a moment on his arm. "Ah, you are so kind and understanding!"
"Still," he said, "why can't you put an ad among the public notices that none but he would understand. Haven't you some private way of addressing him that he would recognize?"
She shook her head with an appearance of great sadness. "No! It hadn't gone as far as that, you understand."
Chapter 4
Lee Mappin had now reached the point where he read with care every word in the newspapers appertaining to the Gartrey case. His face turned a little grim next morning when he came upon this item in the Herald Tribune :
Amos Lee Mappin, the well-known author and criminologist, is known to have called on Mrs. Jules Gartrey at her apartment late last night. What took place during this interview can only be surmised, but it looks as if Mr. Mappin was preparing to enter the case on behalf of the missing Alastair Yohe.
Tipped off the paper herself, thought Lee.
When he reached the office he was a
"If you have even a suspicion it will be safe with me."
"Have you thought of the butler, Robert Hawkins?" she asked in a muffled voice.
"Hm, that's a new lead," said Lee.
"He was in a position to do it," she went on eagerly, "and it would explain why he tried to put it off on Al."
"What motive could Hawkins have had?"
"Personal motive? None! He was only a servant. But my husband had enemies. Men of great wealth. It would have been easy for one of them to get at Hawkins and to pay him, to pay him a great sum, perhaps, to do away with my husband."
"That's a possibility," said Lee. "I will investigate it."
"I understand that Hawkins has disappeared," she said.
"Only from the newspaper reporters. He has given the police his present address."
"Oh, he's a smooth customer," she said bitterly. "Don't be deceived by his snowy hair and his seeming honesty!"
"I am not easily deceived," said Lee mildly.
"He washes his hair with bluing to make it whiter," she said acidly. "My maid told me. It wouldn't do any good for you to talk to him. He would only lie."
"Naturally. I shall endeavor to find out if he has come into any money lately."
Mrs. Gartrey arose. "You must let me give you a check, Mr. Mappin. You shall name the amount yourself!"
Lee held up his hand. "Thank you, no! I have not yet taken the case."
Mrs. Gartrey's eyes never left his face. As they proceeded toward the door, she saw him looking at the masses of expensive flowers that filled the room, and murmured: "People will send flowers. And usually the people one doesn't much care for. It is so inconsiderate. Every box that comes administers a fresh stab!"
"Why don't you send them to a hospital?" he asked dryly.
"The senders usually call to extend their condolences. They would be offended if they didn't see their flowers."
Lee passed a huge bouquet of American Beauty roses with stems three feet long. Under the edge of the vase which contained them was caught the edge of a card--presumably the sender's. On it was written: "Deepest sympathy--Rulon."
"Mrs. Gartrey," said Lee, "why don't you address Mr. Yohe through the newspapers? Wherever he is, we may be sure that he reads them."
"How can I?" she murmured distressfully. "In the first shock of this awful happening I was so confused, so distracted, that I made the mistake of telling the police that he was just a casual acquaintance. You know better than that. I can't hide anything from you. But I trust you. You see, if the truth about what I feel came out now, it would only react against him."
There was something very flattering, very affecting in the sight of the famous beauty casting herself on his mercy like this. And she knows it! thought Lee. "I see," he said.
"But Mr. Mappin, I swear to you there has been no wrongdoing!" she protested.
"I accept it," said Lee. He took a pinch of snuff.
"I may say, though, that it wouldn't make the slightest difference to me if there had been."
She laid her hand lightly for a moment on his arm. "Ah, you are so kind and understanding!"
"Still," he said, "why can't you put an ad among the public notices that none but he would understand. Haven't you some private way of addressing him that he would recognize?"
She shook her head with an appearance of great sadness. "No! It hadn't gone as far as that, you understand."
Chapter 4
Lee Mappin had now reached the point where he read with care every word in the newspapers appertaining to the Gartrey case. His face turned a little grim next morning when he came upon this item in the Herald Tribune :
Amos Lee Mappin, the well-known author and criminologist, is known to have called on Mrs. Jules Gartrey at her apartment late last night. What took place during this interview can only be surmised, but it looks as if Mr. Mappin was preparing to enter the case on behalf of the missing Alastair Yohe.
Tipped off the paper herself, thought Lee.
When he reached the office he was a
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