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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Then how did it reach my husband?" "Oh, of course, it came in an envelope, I suppose, but I found none with it. So we can't tell where it was sent, here or to one of his clubs or to his office address." "Not here, I'm sure," said Mrs. Schuyler. "Probably to his club. You are quite welcome to the letter, Mr. Lowney. Make what use you think best of it.
Now, that the coroner has finished his task, we will take the matter up. Mr. Lowney, I suppose, will continue the search for Miss Van Allen, but we fear he will not be successful. So, we have determined to send for the great detective, Fleming Stone." "Stone!" I cried, "why, he won't work with the police." "Then he can work without them," declared Rhoda, with asperity.
Where would she be likely to go?" "I don't know," said Mrs. Reeves. "She wouldn't go to my home, I live 'way down in Washington Square." "Nor to mine," chirped Ariadne, "it's over on the west side." "I don't believe she left the house," declared the coroner. "Tell us again, Luigi," asked Lowney, "just where did the lady seem to go, when you saw her leave this room?" "I can't say, sir.
"English speaking, if that's what you mean. But I think she's an American. Don't you, Mrs Reeves?" "American? Yes, of course." Detective Lowney, who had come with the coroner, had said little but had listened to all. Occasionally he would dart from the room, and return a few moments later, scribbling in his notebook. He was an alert little man, with beady black eyes and a stubby black mustache.
Shall we say a week from to-night?" "Next Monday? Yes. If I can get it at all, I can have it by then. How shall I let you know?" "You needn't let me know, for I know now you will get it. Steal it from Mr. Lowney, if you can't get it otherwise." "But if Fleming Stone is on your trail, will you come for the book?" "I must," she spoke gravely. "I must have the book. It means everything to me.
"Yes, there has. Mr. Schuyler is dead." "Dead!" The imperturbable calm gave way, and the valet became nervously excited. "What do you mean? Where is he? Shall I go to him?" "We will come in," said Lowney, for until now, we had stood outside. "Then we will tell you. Are any of the other servants about?" "No, sir, they are all in bed." "Then what is your name?" "Cooper, sir."
But until you do find her don't condemn her utterly. From what Mr. Calhoun has told me of her and from the tone of that letter she wrote to Randolph, I can't make it seem possible that she killed a man she knew so slightly. And yet, it may be she did." "Well," remarked Lowney, "the note proves that she had seen Mr. Schuyler before, anyway. Then, when he came to her house as Mr.
The dressing-table boxes held some bits of jewelry but nothing of really great value. An escritoire was full of letters and papers, and this, Lowney locked, and put the key in his pocket. "If it's all right," he said, "there's no harm done. And if the lady doesn't show up, we must examine the stuff." On we went to the third floor of the house.
From the appearance of the wrappings they belied Huyler's advertisement of being "fresh every hour," though one of the boxes bore that firm's name. The others were stamped by Martha Washington, Lowney and one or two other widely known manufacturers. "Yes this one's Huyler's but I've got to have two this time. Yes I have too! Athol's got to put up for one and you for the other. Why just look at me!
"Mind you," Lydia was saying in a low tone, "Flora said that Lou acted very queer, from the very moment she went in Lou asked her if she wanted to look at poor Mr. Lowney, and Flora went in, and he was all laid out, with flowers and all, in that upstairs room where Al died. Grandma Lowney was there, and oh, quite a few others, coming and going, Mrs. Mallon and the Baxter girls.
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