Both men started, but collapsed. Madame Veno choked and went on:
"He's in a room downstairs—in the basement. He's been there all the time. What happened was like this: The Duke came one night to the office—I mean of the Inner Circle. He'd heard the editor would be there. I may as well tell you he'd got an anonymous letter to say so. It was found in his pocket. The Duchess's maid or Mademoiselle's French pal is sure to have sent it, wanting to get the Duke out of their way. And they did get him out! It was the night of the first 'Whisper' about the pearls and Pavoya calling at the Phayre house. The Duke got into the place by a trick—sent word by an office boy that he had information to give. He was let into a room divided by a partition from the one where my step-brother was—the editor. You have to say what you've got to say by telephone there. You don't see any one. But the Duke guessed who was on the other side. He put the chair on the table, and climbed up, so he could get over the partition. He'd wrenched off the receiver from the 'phone, to hit my step-brother with. When he was going for him my husband heard the row, and ran in from another room. He didn't make any noise, but came up from behind and cracked the Duke over the back of the head with a big ruler. He had a right to do that, because the Duke horsewhipped him publicly in London for what he'd published in Modern Ways, and spoiled England for us both. That's why we came to New York, and I took over the 'Madame Veno' business. I was 'Madame Ayesha' in Bond Street, and wore Egyptian dress. I told you it was an accident we were mixed up in this. It wasn't my husband's fault. He had to defend his brother-in-law against a cowardly attack like that!
"As for Mr. Lowndes, he hated the Duke for marrying Miss Phayre—just as Lady West (who used to send us lots of news about folks she didn't like in London and Paris) hated Miss Phayre for marrying the Duke. Mr. Lowndes is one of the 'Whisperer' lot. I mean he's one of several men who put together the 'Whisperer' stuff that comes out under one name. He was in the office that night, and so was Markoff the Russian! Your private detective was after Markoff——"
"More about him and the others by-and-by," Manners cut her short almost gently, "Nick, would you like the job of going down to look for the Duke?"
"I would that, sir!" Nickson answered. "I'll give this big chap a smash the way he did 'is Grice, and put him out o' count for while I'm way."
"No need for that. See if he's armed."
Nickson "went through" his prisoner's pockets. There was only a pocket-knife, for Piggott and Lowndes had expected to meet no one more formidable than the Duchess of Claremanagh.
Lowndes was also unarmed.
"That's all right," pronounced Jack. "I and a Browning can keep the pair and Madame, too, in order. No, on second thoughts take her down with you. She'll show you the way, won't you, Madame?"
"Needs must, when the Devil drives," she snapped.