Part 30 (1/2)

I read all your newspapers. I read of that terrible murder in Crooked Friars' Alley only a few days ago,--is not that how you call the place?”

Laverick was suddenly grave. What was this that was coming?

”One of the reports,” she continued, ”says that the man was a foreigner. The maker's name upon his clothes was Austrian. I, too, come from that part of Europe--if not from Austria, from a country very near--and I am always interested in my country-people.

A few moments ago I asked my friend Mr. Bellamy, 'Where is this Crooked Friars' Alley?' Just then he bowed to you, and he answered me, 'It is in the city. It is within a yard or two of the offices of the gentleman to whom I just have said good-evening.' So I looked across at you and I thought that it was strange.”

Laverick scarcely knew what to say.

”It was a terrible affair,” he admitted, ”and, as Mr. Bellamy has told you, it occurred within a few steps of my office. So far, too, the police seem completely at a loss.”

”Ah!” she went on, shaking her head, ”your police, I am afraid they are not very clever. It is too bad, but I am afraid that it is so.

Tell me, Mr. Laverick, is this, then, a very lonely spot where your offices are?”

”Not at all,” Laverick replied. ”On the contrary, in the daytime it might be called the heart of the city--of the money-making part of the city, at any rate. Only this thing, you see, seems to have taken place very late at night.”

”When all the offices were closed,” she remarked.

”Most of them,” Laverick answered. ”Mine, as it happened, was open late that night. I pa.s.sed the spot within half-an-hour or so of the time when the murder must have been committed.”

”But that is terrible!” she declared, shaking her head. ”Tell me, Mr. Laverick, if I drive to your office some morning you will show me this place,--yes?”

”If you are in earnest, Mademoiselle, I will certainly do so, but there is nothing there. It is just a pa.s.sage.”

”You give me your address,” she insisted, ”and I think that I will come. You are a stockbroker, Mr. Bellamy tells me. Well, sometimes I have a good deal of money to invest. I come to you and you will give me your advice. So! You have a card!”

Laverick found one and scribbled his city address upon it. She thanked him and once more held out the tips of her fingers.

”So I shall see you again some day, Mr. Laverick.”

He bowed and recrossed the room. Bellamy was standing talking to Zoe.

”Well,” he asked, as Laverick returned, ”are you, too, going to throw yourself beneath the car?”

Laverick shook his head.

”I do not think so,” he answered. ”Our acquaintance promises to be a business one. Mademoiselle spoke of investing some money though me.”

Bellamy laughed.

”Then you have kept your heart,” he remarked. ”Ah, well, you have every reason!”

He bowed to Zoe, nodded to Laverick, and returned to his place.

Laverick looked after him a little compa.s.sionately.

”Poor fellow,” he said.

”Who is he?”