Part 9 (1/2)

But it was her eyes that arrested and held one's attention most.

Whether it was in the eyes themselves or in the way that she used them, there could be no mistake about the almost hypnotic power that their owner possessed. I could not help wondering whether she might not have exercised it on Don Luis, perhaps was using it in some way to influence Whitney. Was that the reason why the Senorita so evidently feared her?

Fortunately, from our vantage point, we could see without being in any danger of being seen.

”There's Whitney,” I heard Craig mutter under his breath.

I looked up and saw the promoter enter from his car. At almost the same instant the roving eyes of the Senora seemed to catch sight of him. He came over and spoke to the de Moches, standing with them several minutes. I fancied that not for an instant did she allow the gaze of any one else to distract her in the projection of whatever weird ocular power nature had endowed her with. If it were a battle of eyes, I recollected the strange look that I had noted about those of both Whitney and Lockwood. That, however, was different from the impression one got of the Senora's. I felt that she would have to be pretty clever to match the subtlety of Whitney.

Whatever it was they were talking about, one could see that Whitney and Senora de Moche were on very familiar terms. At the same time, young de Moche appeared to be ill at ease. Perhaps he did not approve of the intimacy with Whitney. At any rate, he seemed visibly relieved when the promoter excused himself and walked over to the desk to get his mail and then out into the cafe.

”I'd like to get a better view of her,” remarked Kennedy, rising. ”Let us take a turn or two along the corridor and pa.s.s them.”

We sauntered forth from our alcove and strolled down among the various knots of people chatting and laughing. As we pa.s.sed the woman and her son, I was conscious again of that strange feeling, which psychologists tell us, however, has no real foundation, of being stared at from behind.

At the lower end of the lobby Kennedy turned suddenly and we started to retrace our steps. Alfonso's back was toward us now. Again we pa.s.sed them, just in time to catch the words, in a low tone, from the young man, ”Yes, I have seen him at the University. Every one there knows that he is--”

The rest of the sentence was lost. But it was not difficult to reconstruct. It referred undoubtedly to the activities of Kennedy in unravelling mysteries.

”It's quite evident,” I suggested, ”that they know that we are interested in them now.”

”Yes,” he agreed. ”There wasn't any use of watching them further from under cover. I wanted them to see me, just to find out what they would do.”

Kennedy was right. Indeed, even before we turned again, we found that the Senora and Alfonso had risen and were making their way slowly to the elevators, still talking earnestly. The lifts were around an angle, and before we could place ourselves so that we could observe them again they were gone.

”I wish there was some way of adding Alfonso's shoe-prints to my collection,” observed Craig. ”The marks that I found in the dust of the sarcophagus in the Museum were those of a man's shoes. However, I suppose I must wait to get them.”

He walked over to the desk and made inquiries about the de Moches and Whitney. Each had a suite on the eighth floor, though on opposite sides and at opposite ends of the hall.

”There's no use wasting time trying to conceal our ident.i.ty now,”

remarked Kennedy finally, drawing a card from his case. ”Besides, we came here to see them, anyhow.” He handed the card to the clerk.

”Senora de Moche, please,” he said.

The clerk took the card and telephoned up to the de Moche suite. I must say that it was somewhat to my surprise that the Senora telephoned down to say that she would receive us in her own sitting room.

”That's very kind,” commented Craig, as I followed him into the elevator. ”It saves planning some roundabout way of meeting her and comes directly to the point.”

The elevator whisked us up directly to the eighth floor and we stepped out into the heavily carpeted hallway, pa.s.sing down to Room 810, which was the number of her suite. Further on, in 825, was Whitney's.

Alfonso was not there. Evidently he had not ridden up with his mother, after all, but had gone out through another entrance on the ground floor. The Senora was alone.

”I hope that you will pardon me for intruding,” began Craig, with as plausible an explanation as he could muster, ”but I have become interested in an opportunity to invest in a Peruvian venture, and I have heard that you are a Peruvian. Your son, Alfonso, I have already met, once. I thought that perhaps you might be able to give me some advice.” She looked at us keenly, but said nothing. I fancied that she detected the subterfuge. Yet she had not tried, and did not try now to avoid us. Either she had no connection with the case we were investigating or she was an adept actress.

On closer view, her eyes were really even more remarkable than I had imagined at a distance. They were those of a woman endowed with an abundance of health and energy, eyes that were full of what the old character readers used to call ”amativeness,” denoting a nature capable of intense pa.s.sion, whether of love or hate. Yet I confess that I could not find anything especially abnormal about them, as I had about the eyes of Lockwood and Whitney.

It was some time before she replied, and I gave a hasty glance about the apartment. Of course, it had been rented furnished, but she had rearranged it, adding some touches of her own which gave it quite a Peruvian appearance, due perhaps more to the pictures and the ornaments which she had introduced rather than anything else.

”I suppose,” she replied, at length, slowly, and looking at us as if she would bore right through into our minds, ”I suppose you mean the schemes of Mr. Lockwood--and Mr. Whitney.”

Kennedy was not to be taken by surprise. ”I have heard of their schemes, too,” he replied noncommittally. ”Peru seems to be a veritable storehouse of tales of buried treasure.”