She believed in him, liked him
instantly.
"A trouble which I regret very much," he said humbly. "Westcott has
told me a little, a very little, of what has occurred since I left New
York so hurriedly two months ago. This is the first I knew about it,
and the mystery of the whole affair is as puzzling as ever."
Her eyes widened wonderingly.
"You cannot explain? Not even who the dead man was found murdered in
your apartments?"
"I haven't the least idea."
"Fred has told me all he knows," broke in Westcott "but it only extends
to midnight when he left the city. He was in his apartments less than
ten minutes after his valet retired. He supposed he left everything in
good order, with a note on the writing-table instructing Valois what to
do during his absence, and enclosing a sum of money. Afterward, on the
train, he discovered that he had mislaid the key to his safe but this
occasioned no worry, as he had taken with him all the cash it held, and
the papers were of slight importance."
"But," she broke in impatiently, "where did he go? How did he escape
encountering Beaton and why did he fail to answer your message?"
The eyes of the two men met, and they both smiled.
Pages:
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430