Perhaps Delarue figures in that end of it.We must let no stone go unturned.""That's right," meditated Maloney, apparently turning something over in his mind as if it were a new idea."If we only had some evidence, even part of the jewels that she had hidden, it would clinch the case.That's a good idea, Kennedy."Craig said nothing, but I could see, or fancied I saw, that he was gratified at the thought that he had started Maloney off on another trail, leaving us to follow ours unhampered.The interview with Blake was soon over, and as we left I looked inquiringly at Craig.
"I want to see Mrs.Branford again," he said."I think we can do better alone to-day than we did last night."I must say I half expected that she would refuse to see us and was quite surprised when the page returned with the request that we go up to her suite.It was evident that her attitude toward us was very different from that of the first interview.Whether she was ruffled by the official presence of Blake or the officious presence of Maloney, she was at least politely tolerant of us.Or was it that she at last began to realise that the toils were closing about her and that things began to look unmistakably black?
Kennedy was quick to see his advantage."Mrs.Branford," he began, "since last night I have come into the possession of some facts that are very important.I have heard that several loose pearls which may or may not be yours have been offered for sale by a man on the Bowery who is what the yeggmen call a 'fence.'""Yeggmen - 'fence'?" she repeated."Mr.Kennedy, really I do not care to discuss the pearls any longer.It is immaterial to me what becomes of them.My first desire is to collect the insurance.If anything is recovered I am quite willing to deduct that amount from the total.But I must insist on the full insurance or the return of the pearls.As soon as Mr.Branford arrives I shall take other steps to secure redress."A boy rapped at the door and brought in a telegram which she tore open nervously."He will be here in four days," she said, tearing the telegram petulantly, and not at all as if she were glad to receive it."Is there anything else that you wish to say?"She was tapping her foot on the rug as if anxious to conclude the interview.Kennedy leaned forward earnestly and played his trump card boldly.
"Do you remember that scene in 'The Grass Widower,'" he said slowly, "where Jack Delarue meets his runaway wife at the masquerade ball?"She coloured slightly, but instantly regained her composure.
"Vaguely," she murmured, toying with the flowers in her dress.
"In real life," said Kennedy, his voice purposely betraying that he meant it to have a personal application, "husbands do not forgive even rumours of - ah - shall we say affinities? - much less the fact.""In real life," she replied, "wives do not have affinities as often as some newspapers and plays would have us believe.""I saw Delarue after the performance last night," went on Kennedy inexorably."I was not seen, but I saw, and he was with - "She was pacing the room now in unsuppressed excitement."Will you never stop spying on me?" she cried."Must my every act be watched and misrepresented? I suppose a distorted version of the facts will be given to my husband.Have you no chivalry, or justice, or - or mercy?" she pleaded, stopping in front of Kennedy.
"Mrs.Branford," he replied coldly, "I cannot promise what I shall do.My duty is simply to get at the truth about the pearls.If it involves some other person, it is still my duty to get at the truth.
Why not tell me all that you really know about the pearls and trust me to bring it out all right?"She faced him, pale and haggard."I have told," she repeated steadily."I cannot tell any more - I know nothing more."Was she lying? I was not expert enough in feminine psychology to judge, but down in my heart I knew that the woman was hiding something behind that forced steadiness.What was it she was battling for? We had reached an impasse.
It was after dinner when I met Craig at the laboratory.He had made a trip to Montclair again, where his stay had been protracted because Maloney was there and he wished to avoid him.He had brought back the camera, and had had another talk with O'Connor, at which he had mapped out a plan of battle.
"We are to meet the Gay Cat at the City Hall at nine o'clock,"explained Craig laconically."We are going to visit a haunt of yeggmen, Walter, that few outsiders have ever seen.Are you game?
O'Connor and his men will be close by - hiding, of course.""I suppose so, I replied slowly.But what excuse are you going to have for getting into this yegg-resort?""Simply that we are two newspaper men looking for an article, without names, dates, or places - just a good story of yeggmen and tramps.I've got a little - well, we'll call it a little camera outfit that I'm going to sling over my shoulder.You are the reporter, remember, and I'm the newspaper photographer.They won't pose for us, of course, but that will be all right.Speaking about photographs, I got one out at Montclair that is interesting.I'll show it to you later in the evening - and in case anything should happen to me, Walter, you'll find the original plate locked here in the top drawer of my desk.I guess we'd better be getting downtown."The house to which we were guided by the Gay Cat was on a cross street within a block or two of Chatham Square.If we had passed it casually in the daytime there would have been nothing to distinguish it above the other ramshackle buildings on the street, except that the other houses were cluttered with children and baby-carriages, while this one was vacant, the front door closed, and the blinds tightly drawn.As we approached, a furtive figure shambled from the basement areaway and slunk off into the crowd for the night's business of pocket-picking or second-story work.
