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The Prefecture, of course, is humming like a wasp's-nest with the mystery of that telegram, signed with Roddy's name and handed in at the Bourse an hour or so before he was 'burned to death. Too bad I didn't know then what I do now; if I'd even remotely suspected Greggs' association with the Pack was via Bannon.... But what's the use?
Miss Eleanora Gregg thought so too: in fact, she had thought so first. Her name was Eleanora, but her parents called her Tweetie, which really did not sound so bad as it might if Tweetie had been one whit less pretty. Tweetie was so amazingly, Americanly pretty that she could have triumphed over a pet name twice as absurd. The Greggs came to Rome, as has been stated, at two P.M. Wednesday.
Crane's servant, Bridgett Greggs, on the box beside the coachman. Alban had been to the agent employed by Mrs. Crane in the letting of her houses, but had not there gained any information. The Colonel believed that Mrs. Crane had succeeded in removing Jasper from London had, perhaps, accompanied him abroad.
She is shown by Bridget Greggs into a small room upon the first floor; folding-doors to some other room closely shut evidences of sickness in the house; phials on the chimneypiece a tray with a broth-basin on the table a saucepan on the hob the sofa one of those that serve as a bed, which Sleep little visits, for one who may watch through the night over some helpless sufferer a woman's shawl thrown carelessly over its hard narrow bolster; all, in short, betraying that pathetic untidiness and discomfort which says that a despot is in the house to whose will order and form are subordinate; the imperious Tyranny of Disease establishing itself in a life that, within those four walls, has a value not to be measured by its worth to the world beyond.
He couldn't play straight if he tried." McLean laughed. "Yes," he said; "and if you want to see my trademark look at the side of Greggs' face." Every man looked at Pony, learning for the first time that he had gone under a different name at some period of his life. During the momentary distraction McLean swept the money off the table and put it in his pockets.
Of even date, from Antwerp, it read: "Underworld Paris Greggs arrested today boarding steamer for America after desperate struggle killed himself immediately afterward poison no confession Q-2." "Underworld?" Lanyard queried blankly. "Our telegraphic address, of course. 'Q-2' is our chief factor in Antwerp." "So they got Greggs!" "Stupid oaf," Wertheimer observed; "I've no sympathy for him.
For an instant he felt dazed, half-stunned, suffocating, much as he had felt with Greggs' fingers tightening on his windpipe, that week-old night at Troyon's; he experienced real difficulty about breathing, and was conscious of a sickish throbbing in his temples and a pounding in his bosom like the tolling of a great bell. He stared, swaying....
We had moving pictures at the club showing how they're torn from the mother birds. No daughter of mine " "I don't care!" retorted Tweetie. "They're perfectly stunning; and I'm going to have them." And she had them not that the aigret incident is important; but it may serve to place the Greggs in their respective niches.
"This is to-night's Presse.... 'Totally destroyed by a fire which started at six-thirty this morning and in less than half an hour had reduced the ancient structure to a heap of smoking ashes'! ..." He ran his eye quickly down the column, selecting salient phrases: "'Believed to have been of incendiary origin though the premises were uninsured' that's an intelligent guess!... 'Narrow escape of guests in their 'whatyemaycallems....'Three lives believed to have been lost ... one body recovered charred almost beyond recognition' but later identified as Roddy poor devil! ... 'Two guests missing, Monsieur Lanyard, the well-known connoisseur of art, who occupied the room adjoining that of the unfortunate detective, and Mademoiselle Bannon, daughter of the American millionaire, who himself escaped only by a miracle with his secretary Monsieur Greggs, the latter being overcome by fumes' what a shame!... 'Police and firemen searching the ruins' hm-hm extraordinary interest manifested by the Prefecture indicates a suspicion that the building may have been fired to conceal some crime of a political nature."
At eleven o'clock Friday morning Mary Gowd called at the Gregg's hotel, according to appointment. In far-away Batavia, Illinois, Mrs. Gregg had heard of Mary Gowd. And Mary Gowd, with her knowledge of everything Roman from the Forum to the best place at which to buy pearls was to be the staff on which the Greggs were to lean. "My husband," said Mrs. Gregg; "my daughter Twee er Eleanora.
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