For some minutes Kennedy worked along thoughtfully over his analysis, though I knew that he was merely endeavoring to determine in his own mind the next important move to make.
"I think I'll vary my custom, in this case," he decided, finally. "I'm going to announce what I have discovered as I go along. If you tell it to one you may depend that it will spread to the others eventually. It will be interesting to see what happens. Often when you do that it's the quickest way to have the whole truth come out—especially if some one is trying to conceal it."
There was a tap on the laboratory door and I rose to open it, admitting Doyle himself, quite excited.
"What's the matter?" greeted Kennedy.
"There's the deuce to pay up at the Wilford apartment," replied Doyle. "Shattuck called there to see Mrs. Wilford this afternoon and offer her his sympathy."
I glanced over to Kennedy, who nodded to me. It was evidently the visit about which we already knew.
"I wasn't there," went on Doyle, "but McCabe was, of course. I don't know just what happened, but McCabe and Shattuck had some kind of run-in—Shattuck protested against the way we're holding Mrs. Wilford, and all that. Some mess!" He shook his head dubiously.
"Why?" prompted Kennedy. "What's the trouble?"
"Trouble enough. Mrs. Wilford's almost in a state of hysteria. When I tried to smooth things over she ordered me out of the apartment, said she'd receive whom she pleased and when and where she pleased."
Kennedy scowled. I could well imagine Doyle "smoothing" anything over. A road-roller would have been tactful by comparison.