"There was something strange that went on at that office the night of the murder," ruminated Kennedy. "Maybe there is some clue down there, after all, that has been overlooked. You've searched, you say. Doyle has searched. The place must have been pretty well gone over. However, I can see nothing left but to search again," he decided, quickly. "We must go down there."
X
THE ORDEAL BEAN
Wilford's office was in an old building of the days when a structure of five or six stories, with a cast-iron, ornamented front, was considered a wonderful engineering achievement. It was down-town, in the heart of the financial district, and had been chosen by Wilford, without a doubt, to convey an impression of solidity and conservatism, a useful camouflage to cover the essential character of his law practice as scandal attorney.
We climbed the worn stairs with Leslie, and, as we mounted, I noticed that there was also, down the hall, a back stairway, evidently placed there in case of fire. Hence, it was possible, I reasoned, for a person to have slipped in or out practically unobserved from the front.
We knew now that at least one person, probably two, had been there, though who they were we did not know. Nor was there yet any clue, except that certainly a woman had visited Wilford, at least early in the evening.
Wilford's office was on the third floor, in the front. We entered and looked about. Past the outer railing and outer office was his own sanctum.
It was furnished lavishly with divans and settees in mahogany and dark leather, with elaborate hangings over the windows and on the walls. There were law-books, but only, it seemed, for the purpose of giving a legal flavor to the place. Most of the legal library was outside. The office was rather like a den than a lawyer's office.
Reflecting, I could see the reason. Society must be made welcome here, and at ease. Besides, the conservative surroundings were quite valuable in covering up the profession—I had almost said, business—of divorce made easy and pleasant. I recalled Rascon and the crook detectives who made little concealment of their business—"Evidence for divorce furnished." Doubtless many of these gentry had found occupation from this source. What stories these walls might have told! They would have made even Belle Balcom's ears tingle.
At once Kennedy began his search of the office, going over everything minutely but quickly, while we waited, apart.