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Updated: May 5, 2025
He looked rather serious as he entered, and glanced from one to another of us inquiringly. I introduced Albeury to him; as I mentioned Albeury's name I saw the two scoundrels start. Evidently he was well known to them by name, and probably by repute.
At the end of a quarter of an hour, as he did not return, I went out into the passage, locked the door of my room behind me, and walked slowly in the direction Albeury had gone. I knew the number of Dulcie's room to be eighty-seven it adjoined the bedroom occupied by Connie Stapleton, which opened into a private sitting-room; this I had ascertained from one of the hotel porters.
Again the man glanced swiftly at the detective, then went on, speaking quickly: "If you'll let us go, we'll tell everything anything you want to know!" I glanced an inquiry at Albeury. Though his gaze was still set upon his man, he caught my look. "Right we'll let you go," he said, without moving, "if you'll tell us everything. Now speak. Why are you here?" "We're under orders," the man repeated.
Incidentally they mentioned that Connie Stapleton was in reality Gastrell's wife, and that Jasmine was his mistress, though Harold Logan, found in the hiding-hole at Holt, had been madly in love with her. "There," I said, turning to Jack Osborne as Albeury ended his cross-examination, "now you've got it all in black and white.
Downstairs, with Albeury, I began to look through my correspondence. The third telegram I opened puzzled me. "Is it all right? Dick." It had been awaiting me two days. Guessing that there must be a letter from Dick which would throw light on this telegram, I glanced quickly through the pile. I soon came to one addressed in his handwriting.
I do so with impunity because he knows that if he betrays me I can reveal something I know about him and should do so at once." I was about to speak, when my gaze again met Dulcie's. She had turned suddenly pale. Now she glanced apprehensively first at her friend, then at me, and then at the American detective Albeury. Deep perplexity as well as fear was in her eyes.
Hardly had he stopped speaking, when my gaze rested upon two people who had just entered and were approaching. One was the police official, Victor Albeury. The other was Dulcie Challoner!
As I reached the door of the sitting-room I heard voices a man's voice, and the voices of two women. The man was Albeury. The women, who both spoke at once, were certainly Connie Stapleton and Dulcie. They were in the room, and by their tones I judged them to be wrangling with Albeury. I knocked boldly. Summoned to enter by Connie Stapleton, I walked straight in and faced them.
Had we all been on the best of terms, and met after being separated for half an hour or so, they could hardly have been more composed. For five minutes we discussed commonplace topics, when suddenly I noticed that Albeury was looking at me very hard. Dulcie, too, seemed to have grown curiously uneasy. "Whereabouts is he?" Albeury said quickly in a low tone, glancing sharply at Dulcie.
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