Elusive Isabel, by Jacques Futrelle Read Online Free PDF Page A

glanced at it. “She arrived in Washington two weeks and two days ago from New York, off the Lusitania , from Liverpool. She brought some sort of an introduction to Count di Rosini, the Italian ambassador, and he obtained for her a special invitation to the state ball, which was held that night. Until four days ago she was a guest at the Italian embassy, but now, as you know, is a guest at the Venezuelan legation. Since her arrival here she has been prominently pushed forward into society; she has gone everywhere, and been received everywhere in the diplomatic set. We have no knowledge of her beyond this.”
    There was a question in Mr. Grimm’s listless eyes as they met those of his chief. The same line of thought was running in both their minds, born, perhaps, of the association of ideas—Italy as one of three great nations known to be in the Latin compact; Prince Benedetto d’Abruzzi, of Italy, the secret envoy of three countries; the sudden appearance of Miss Thorne at the Italian embassy. And in the mind of the younger man there was more than this—a definite knowledge of a message cunningly transmitted to Mr. Rankin, of the German embassy, by Miss Thorne there in the ball-room.
    “Can you imagine—” he asked slowly, “can you imagine a person who would be of more value to the Latin governments in Washington right at this stage of the negotiations than a brilliant woman agent?”
    “I most certainly can not,” was the chief’s unhesitating response.
    “In that case I don’t think it would be wise to transfer the investigation of the shooting affair to another man,” said Mr. Grimm emphatically, reverting to his chief’s question. “I think, on the contrary, we should find out more about Miss Thorne.”
    “Precisely,” Campbell agreed.
    “Ask all the great capitals about her—Madrid, Paris and Rome, particularly; then, perhaps, London and Berlin and St. Petersburg.”
    Mr. Campbell thoughtfully scribbled the names of the cities on a slip of paper.
    “Do you intend to arrest Miss Thorne for the shooting?” he queried.
    “I don’t know,” replied Mr. Grimm frankly. “I don’t know,” he repeated musingly. “If I do arrest her immediately I may cut off a clue which will lead to the other affair. I don’t know,” he concluded.
    “Use your own judgment, and bear in mind that a man—_a man_ slammed the door in the maid’s face.”
    “I shall not forget him,” Mr. Grimm answered. “Now I’m going over to talk to Count di Rosini for a while.”
    The young man went out, thoughtfully tugging at his gloves. The Italian ambassador received him with an inquiring uplift of his dark brows.
    “I came to make some inquiries in regard to Miss Thorne—Miss Isabel Thorne,” Mr. Grimm informed him frankly.
    The count was surprised, but it didn’t appear in his face.
    “As I understand it,” the young man pursued, “you are sponsor for her in Washington?”
    The count, evasively diplomatic, born and bred in a school of caution, considered the question from every standpoint.
    “It may be that I am so regarded,” he admitted at last.
    “May I inquire if the sponsorship is official, personal, social, or all three?” Mr. Grimm continued.
    There was silence for a long time.
    “I don’t see the trend of your questioning,” said the ambassador finally. “Miss Thorne is worthy of my protection in every way.”
    “Let’s suppose a case,” suggested Mr. Grimm blandly. “Suppose Miss Thorne had—had, let us say, shot a man, and he was about to die, would you feel justified in withdrawing that—that protection, as you call it?”
    “Such a thing is preposterous!” exclaimed the ambassador. “The utter absurdity of such a charge would impel me to offer her every assistance.”
    Mr. Grimm nodded.
    “And if it were proved to your satisfaction that she did shoot him?” he went on evenly.
    The count’s lips were drawn together in a straight line.
    “Whom, may I ask,” he inquired frigidly,