the first thing that duvall did, after releasing grace from her bonds, was to take her in his arms and kiss her. then he found the electric switch upon the wall and turned on the lights.
"what—what was it?" grace asked, staring before her in horror.
"what was what?" he questioned.
"that—that thing that was locked in here with me."
"poor creature. a monkey. i'm sorry i had to shoot it." he pointed to a crumpled figure on the floor dressed in a gay costume of red silk.
"but—what was a monkey doing here?"
"i'll explain all that later. where is the woman?" he glanced toward the silent bedroom.
"they have gone?"
"they?"
"yes. there were two."
"ah! the ford girl. i might have known. where did they go?"
"i—i don't know. to the station, i think. they said something about waiting there for a train."
"what station?"
"they didn't say. but they spoke of taking a car to 42nd street, and crossing over. it must have been the grand central."
"or possibly the west shore. we'll have to try both. are you able to leave now?"
grace straightened out her stiffened limbs.
"yes—i—guess so."
"then come along."
as they started to leave the place, two men confronted them at the door. one was mr. scully, he of the ground-floor apartment, the other a short, thickset man, who at once announced himself as the janitor of the building.
"what's going on up here?" he questioned. "i heard a shot."
duvall pointed to the crumpled heap on the floor.
"i had to shoot it, though i'm sorry now that i did. it attacked me in the dark. i couldn't afford to take any chances. my wife was locked in here, and was, so far as i knew, in grave danger."
"your wife?" the man glanced at grace.
"yes."
"but—where is miss norman? and how did that monkey get in here?"
"miss norman left here some time ago. another woman, by the name of ford, was with her. she brought the monkey."
"what for?"
"i imagine she didn't want to leave it at her rooms. she did not expect to return there."
"and miss norman's gone, you say?"
"yes."
"where to?"
"i don't just know, but i mean to find out at once. she has been guilty of a grave offense, on account of which i have been trying to lay my hands on her for several days. my wife tells me she took most of her belongings with her in her flight."
"flight, eh?" the man growled. "and she owes us a month's rent. i hope you find her."
"i think i shall. meanwhile, suppose you wait here in the apartment, in case, for any reason, she comes back. if i find her i shall bring her here at once, and unless the place is open i couldn't very well get in."
"all right." the man glanced about the disordered room. "that damned monkey has smashed a lamp and a lot of ornaments that somebody's got to pay for. miss norman rented this place furnished."
duvall made no reply, but nodding to grace, led the way to the hall.
"i'll be back soon, whether i find the woman or not," he said. "i've got some investigations to make here."
accompanied by grace, he descended to the cab. leary seemed overjoyed to realize that grace was safe, and began a long apology for his carelessness in not waiting for her earlier in the evening, but duvall cut him short.
"good thing you didn't," he said. "by coming back to the hotel and leaving the note for mrs. duvall, you made it possible for me to find her, and if i hadn't"—he paused and looked at grace with a troubled face—"there's no knowing what might have happened. tell the chauffeur to drive to the grand central station."
it was three o'clock when the cab drew up at the curb. in spite of the lateness of the hour, there were a good many persons moving in and out of the station. duvall got out and motioned to grace and leary to do the same.
"we will all go in by different doors," he explained, "and meet in the general waiting-room. if the women are not there, mrs. duvall will look through the women's room. if you see them, and they make no effort to escape, wait for me to join you. if they do try to get away, detain them until i come."
it was duvall himself, however, who first caught sight of the objects of their pursuit. they sat, both apparently asleep, on a bench in one corner of the main waiting room. the detective was not certain of their identity, heavily veiled as they were, until he had gone quite close up to them. then he saw that they were miss ford and the woman who had escaped from him while in the cab the night before.
he leaned over and tapped the ford girl on the shoulder.
"wake up, miss ford," he exclaimed.
the girl shivered, then struggled to her feet. her companion appeared to be too dazed to move, although she opened her eyes and stared at him with a vague and terrified face.
"will you come with me quietly," he said, "or shall i call a policeman and have you put under arrest for the attack upon my wife?" he addressed himself more particularly to the woman who was sitting.
she now rose and made a movement as though to attempt to escape. duvall grasped her by the arm.
"it will be quite useless to attempt it, miss norman," he said. "i have help close at hand in case it is needed." he glanced toward grace and leary, who were now approaching. "i do not wish to use any violence, of course, but you and your friend are going back to the apartment on ninety-sixth street with me."
his voice, his manner, made it apparent to the two women that escape was hopeless. they seemed suddenly to realize it, to give up further ideas of resistance.
"very well," miss norman said, "we will go."
"good." duvall turned to leary. "take those two suit cases, leary, and get another cab." in silence the little party made its way to the street. the two women said nothing on the way back to the apartment, and duvall did not question them. there was time enough for that, he reflected, after they reached their destination. within less than an hour from the time of their departure, their entire party was back in the woman's apartment.
the janitor was still there on guard, but the body of the dead monkey had been removed. duvall, requesting leary to remain, closed the door. the janitor rose and came toward them.
"look here, miss norman," he began, "who's going to pay for that broken lamp and them vases and ornaments?"
the woman regarded him with a stare, but said nothing.
"never mind about those things now," duvall said. "they can remain. i have some questions of much greater importance to ask these ladies. you need not wait. in fact, i should prefer that you did not. the matter is a private one." the janitor took his departure, grumbling to himself, and duvall closed and bolted the door. then he requested the two women to be seated. they obeyed without a word.
"why did you send those threatening messages to miss morton?" he suddenly asked, addressing himself to miss norman.
she faced him defiantly.
"i'll answer no questions," she flung at him. "you can't prove i sent anybody any messages."
"do you deny it, then?"
"yes!"
duvall turned to grace.
"you saw this woman enter miss morton's hotel to-night and go up in the elevator, did you not?"
"certainly!"
"do you deny that?" the detective once more addressed miss norman.
"no. what of it? how do you know i went to miss morton's room?" her defiance was in no way lessened. duvall saw that she meant to deny her guilt utterly. he turned to leary.
"this woman came to you, did she not, with a request that you spy on my wife's movements, and inform her concerning them?"
the chauffeur nodded.
"yes, sir. she did."
again miss norman spoke.
"suppose i did. what then?"
"you will admit, i presume, that you fainted at the theatre the other night when the picture of the death's-head seal was thrown on the screen, and that later you escaped from the cab in which i had placed you?"
"certainly i will admit it. the hideous thing startled me. as for escaping from the cab, i had every reason to do so. you had not only attempted to drug me, but after that you tried to steal the contents of my purse. you are the one who ought to be arrested, not i."
the woman's attitude began to annoy duvall, especially as, so far, he realized fully that the evidence against her was entirely circumstantial and vague. he turned away, and began to search the rooms.
the search, although he conducted it with the utmost minuteness, was quite unproductive of results. if the woman possessed a typewriter, she had apparently made away with it. the scrap basket contained nothing but a few torn bits of paper of no value. there was no stationery on the small desk in the living room, no black sealing wax, such as had been used to make the seals. duvall began to realize that the case against his prisoner was far from complete. returning from a fruitless search of the bedroom, duvall's eye fell upon the two suitcases that the women had carried in their flight. he bent over to them at once, and proceeded to open them, one after the other.
"search them, please." he nodded to grace.
the latter did so with the utmost care, but found nothing of an incriminating nature. the two women sat in stony silence, showing little interest in the proceedings. duvall went over to them.
"show me your rings," he said to miss norman.
the woman held out her hand.
"take them off."
she stripped from her finger three rings. one was a gold seal with a monogram upon it, another a cheap affair set with pearls, the third a twisted gold band. none of the rings contained the mysterious death's-head seal, or could in any way have concealed it.
an examination of miss ford's stock of jewelry produced no better results.
"let me see the contents of your purse," duvall said, indicating a leather bag the norman woman carried on her wrist.
she handed the bag over with an almost imperceptible smile. duvall examined it but without result. the seal was not inside. nor did miss ford's purse, a silver one, contain anything worthy of his notice. he handed the two back.
"anything else you would like to see?" miss norman asked with cutting irony.
duvall walked over to the window and looked out. it was still quite dark. the woman's assurance puzzled him. it was quite clear now that unless he could find the typewriter, the letter paper, the missing seal, and could connect this woman with them, there remained but a single way in which she could be connected with the attacks upon miss morton, and that would be by the direct testimony of the motion-picture actress herself, concerning the woman's visit to her room. but suppose the visit had been made in disguise. it would have been simple enough to have put on a mask on entering the room and subsequently have thrown it away. and miss morton, frightened as she had been, might be totally unable to identify her assailant. she had covered her tracks well. was she then to go free?
the matter of the typewriter duvall put aside for the moment. the woman might readily have a friend who possessed one—a hotel stenographer, perhaps, who had permitted her to make use of her machine. but the seal was a matter of more importance. his examination of the several impressions had shown him that it was extremely well carved—a decidedly expensive piece of work. of course, the woman might have thrown it away during her flight, but it seemed unlikely. what had she done with it? the question was one to which he felt he must find an answer.
again, with grace's assistance, he examined the articles in the women's suitcases, testing the backs of hairbrushes, the contents of powder boxes, the interior of a cake of soap, a bottle of shoe blackening, but the search was as unproductive of results as before. duvall was forced, against his will, to the conclusion that the woman had made away with the seal, rather than run the risk of its being found upon her person.
"is there anything more you want of us?" miss norman asked, when he had again closed the suitcases. "if not, my friend and i would like to go." she rose as though to take her departure.
"yes. there is one thing more. you will have to go to mrs. morton's hotel with me, so that her daughter may have an opportunity to identify you. but it is far too early to start now. i will send out presently and have some breakfast brought in."
it was beginning to grow light now. duvall suggested to grace that she had better go out into the little kitchenette at the rear of the apartment and see if she couldn't find the materials for preparing some coffee. he himself sat down at the little writing desk, and proceeded once more to examine its varnished surface with the greatest care. he had thought, if the letters had been sealed here, there would in all probability be some tiny spots of the black sealing wax upon the desk top, but he could discover nothing. presently he heard grace calling to him from the kitchen.
directing leary to keep an eye on the two women, he joined her at once.
"what is it?" he asked. "have you discovered anything?"
"no, not exactly. but—what does that mean?" she pointed to a candle which stood in a tin holder on the table. "do you notice the spots of black wax on the candlestick?"
duvall took the candlestick up and looked at it. there were large splashes of sealing wax all over the bottom of the tin tray, not minute spots, such as might have been made by the dropping of bits of the hot wax in making a seal, but circular splotches half an inch or more in diameter, as though a great quantity of the material had been melted.
"what do you make of it?" duvall asked.
"i don't know. looks as though she had melted up the whole stick, for some reason or other. possibly to destroy it."
"hardly that. it would have been far easier to have simply thrown it out of the window. and besides, the mere possession of a stick of sealing wax, black or otherwise, could not be regarded as evidence. this woman is smart, very smart and shrewd. she did not melt that wax up for nothing. i think i have an idea of her purpose, although i cannot, of course, be sure, yet. did you find some coffee?"
"yes. i'll have it ready very soon. what do you make of this woman's attitude?"
"it is simple enough. she believes that she can bluff this thing out without it being possible to prove her the author of the letters. and she may be right. certainly, unless miss morton can identify her, or we can discover the death's-head seal in her possession, she stands a very good chance of getting away scot free."
the coffee which grace presently brought in was drunk by the whole party in silence. duvall seemed unusually preoccupied. his eyes scarcely left miss norman; he appeared to be studying her, watching her every movement with extraordinary interest, although he strove, by assuming a careless indifference, to disguise his scrutiny. grace, who knew his methods, realized that the sealing wax in the candlestick had suggested some clue to him, which he was trying his best to work out.
at about seven o'clock leary was sent out to fetch some breakfast. by half past eight they were ready to go to see mrs. morton.
before doing so, duvall thought it wise to call the latter up and make arrangements about their coming. he presently got mrs. morton on the wire.
"good morning, mrs. morton. how is your daughter?" he asked.
"much better," the reply came. "very much better. i am going to take her back to the apartment at once."
"the apartment?"
"yes. she will be more comfortable there, and safer, too, i think. we came here on your advice so that we might escape this fearful persecution. but since the persons who have been threatening my daughter have discovered our whereabouts, i see no reason for remaining any longer. do you?"
"no. i was going to suggest that you should return. i think i can quite safely assure you that there will be no recurrence of the threats."
"why do you say that?"
"because i think the woman who has been making them is now in my hands. i will bring her to the apartment a little later in the morning so that your daughter may identify her. will eleven o'clock suit you?"
"yes, very well."
"then i will come at that hour. good-by." he hung up the receiver and turned to speak to grace. his eyes, however, sought the figure of miss norman. she had not anticipated his quick scrutiny, and had for the moment ceased to be on her guard. duvall smiled to himself. the theory which the spots of sealing wax had suggested had in that moment received an unexpected confirmation.