We listened eagerly. It was the first long-delayed report of Paquita from Riley, and as Kennedy pursued the one-sided conversation that we heard I gathered that, far from clearing up things, the actions of Paquita had further muddled them.
Hastings glanced at me and shook his head sagely, whispering, “That’s a clever and a dangerous woman: When she looks most innocent is the time to be wary.”
I tried to pay no attention to his banal remarks, but still was unable to follow, from what I heard, the course of the report from Riley.
Finally it seemed as if Kennedy were cut off in the middle of a remark or that Riley had hung up suddenly. Kennedy jiggled the hook but was unable to get any one back again, though Central tried for some time.
“What was it?” I asked, keenly interested.
“I’m afraid she’s putting one over on us again,” commented Kennedy as he hung up the receiver.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Why, it’s evidently a purposeless visit to the city, as nearly as I can make out. Riley followed her in—had no difficulty. In fact, he thinks that she knew she was being followed before they reached the turnpike from Westport.”
“Where did she go after she got here?” I asked, hoping that at last there was some clue that might lead to the “gang” which Burke suspected, but which I was almost tempted to believe was mythical.
“Just stopped at her city apartment,” returned Craig. “There wasn’t any telephone handy and Riley was afraid to leave her for fear she might come out and get away before he could get back. It was very early. When it came time for the offices to open she made a call at her theatrical agents again. After that she came down-town. She wasn’t far away from us here. This will interest you, Mr. Hastings.”