“What’s that?” asked Zizi, to draw the girl on.
“Why, there’s a special recipe for the buns, of course, and it’s very valuable,—the buns can’t be made without it,—and I can’t help thinking that Mr Crippen or some messenger of his has been hunting around there for that recipe.”
“Why not a messenger from some other of the bakeries interested? The Popular Popovers, or whatever it’s called,—or Mr Vail’s company?”
“Maybe. But I know that Mr Vail and Sir Herbert decided not to make a deal, and I think that Popular company also decided not to. Well, anyway, I’m sure whoever was prowling in the Binney apartment was in search of that recipe, which was hidden there.”
“Well, but what good does it do to surmise that? Or even to know that?”
“I don’t know, but I thought if Mr Wise knew somebody was hunting there for a definite purpose, he could find out who the somebody was, and it might be the murderer.”
“A woman,—or women?”
“No—I suppose not—and yet, why not? A messenger from the bakery people,—any of them,—of course, could be a woman,—one of the maids, or some employee of the house.”
“Suppose we go and search.”
“Look here, Miss Everett, you are a sensible girl, and I’m going to speak frankly. You know that suspicion now is directed toward the aunt of Mr Bates or——”