“Did you know that the Walcotts brought Mrs. Maddox here?” I asked Hastings as I returned to Kennedy.
“No, but I’m not surprised,” he returned. “You remember I told you Frances took Irene’s part. Walcott must have returned from the city as soon as he heard of the tragedy.”
“Who was that sallow-faced individual who followed her out?” I asked. “Did you notice him?”
“Yes, I saw him, but I don’t know who he can be,” replied Hastings. “I don’t think I ever saw him before.”
“That Latin-American?” interposed Kennedy, who had completed his first investigation and made arrangements to co-operate with the coroner in carrying on the autopsy in his own laboratory. “I was wondering myself whether he could have any connection with Paquita. Where is she now?”
“At the Harbor House, I suppose,” answered Hastings—“that is, if she is in town.”
Kennedy hurried out of the establishment ahead of us and we looked down the street in time to see our man headed in the direction the Walcott automobile had taken.
He had too good a start of us, however, and before we could overtake him he had reached the Harbor House and entered. We had gained considerably on him, but not enough to find out where he went in the big hotel.
The Harbor House was a most attractive, fashionable hostelry, a favorite run for motor parties out from the city. On the water-front stood a large, red-roofed, stucco building known as the Casino, entirely given over to amusements. Its wide porch of red tiles, contrasting with the innumerable white tables on it, looked out over the sheltered mouth of Westport Bay and on into the Sound, where, faintly outlined on the horizon, one saw the Connecticut shore.
Back of the Casino, and on a hill so that it looked directly over the roof of the lower building, was the hotel itself, commonly known as the Lodge, a new, up-to-date, shingle-sheathed building with every convenience that money and an expensive architect could provide. The place was ideal for summer sports—golf, tennis, motoring, bathing, boating, practically everything one could wish.