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Now, about Curtis, are you sure he is not in his room?" "His key has not been given up, but I have sent to 605, and we can't get in." "What do you mean? Is the door locked?" "We can open every lock in the hotel. It is bolted." "Have you knocked?" "We've done everything, short of breaking open the door." Steingall looked perplexed, but the police captain was confident.
Why you should think that I may have it in mind to leave the country without being accompanied by Lady Hermione Grandison I cannot tell, and it is in the highest degree improbable that she will be prepared to sail to-morrow. Apart from my private arrangements, too, I mean to remain here until I have punished at least one person as he deserves." "Jean de Courtois?" inquired Steingall. "No, sir.
They could form no theory to account for his disappearance, until Steingall noticed the key, lying on the dressing-table, which, with its odds and ends of small articles, was the last place to invite scrutiny. He was gazing at it when the blind flapped, and the door of the wardrobe creaked. "Confound it!" he cried. "The bedroom door was fastened by accident! The man forgot his key. Look here!
"The story ends there?" "That ends the story." "But who took the ring?" Peters extended his hands in an empty gesture. "What! It was never found out?" "Never." "No clue?" "None." "I don't like the story," said De Gollyer. "It's no story at all," said Steingall. "Permit me," said Quinny in a didactic way; "it is a story, and it is complete.
"I haf not done ze wrong," he protested. "Eet ees me who suffare, and I do not permeet dis interference wid my leebairty." "You see," said Steingall coolly. "His mind is wandering already. Just 'phone for a couple of attendants, will you, and I'll give them instructions. I take full responsibility, of course." "But, monsieur " cried the Frenchman. "Would you mind getting a move on?
"In that event, it becomes essential, indeed, I may say imperative, that his lordship and I should interview Monsieur de Courtois without delay." "Sorry, sir," said the clerk, desperately availing himself of the detective's instructions, "but Mr. Steingall left orders that no one should be permitted to visit Mr. de Courtois to-night." "Left orders? Is the man in this hotel?"
The press had heard of the murder, and a number of reporters were interviewing everybody in sight, while photographers were adding to the confusion by taking flash-light pictures. The super-clerk was already showing tokens of the strain. He glared wildly at Steingall when the latter asked if Mr. Curtis was in.
Curtis took an opportunity later to ask Steingall what those cryptic words meant, and the Chief of the Bureau set at rest a doubt which had long perplexed him. "It was Clancy who prompted the idea of mixing up the two branches of the inquiry," he said. "Under that wizened skin of his he has a heart of gold. 'Why shouldn't those two young people be made happy? he said.
"I shall not go home now," said Steingall, bidding farewell to his allies when Martiny had been formally identified and charged. "I must get this thing thoroughly straightened out before morning, though the inquest and police court proceedings will be mere adjournments. Good-night, Mr. Devar. Good-night, Mr. Curtis. Once more, thank you.
By the time I had bought two silk handkerchiefs and a pair of boots, and was haggling like mad over a collection of linen collars, size 16 a present for you, Steingall his nobility came downstairs, but not alone; there was a girl with him. Luckily, she was no Hungarian, but Italian, and they talked in broken English.
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