“No; never. Uncle had few visitors, but they were always just his friends, not business callers.”
“Then most of our search must be in his offices. You noticed nothing there, Mr. Brice, that seemed indicative?”
Then I told him about the hatpin and the carriage check; and I also related how Norah had found and kept the “powder-paper” that she picked out of the waste basket.
Zizi’s eyes flashed at this, and she said, “Has she traced it?”
It was the first time the girl had spoken, and I was charmed with her voice. Low and soft, it had also a bell-like quality, and seemed to leave a ringing echo in the air after she ceased speaking.
“Yes; to the shop where it was bought,” I replied. “As Norah guessed, it came from a very high-class perfumer’s on Fifth Avenue. But of course he could not tell us to whom he had sold that particular paper.”
“I’d like to see it,” said Zizi, simply, and again relapsed into silence.
“Norah must be a bright girl,” observed Wise, “and she has made a good start by finding the shop. Perhaps we can carry the trail further. It wasn’t yours, Miss Raynor?”
“No; I use a paler tint. This one, I have seen it, is quite a deep pink.”
“Indicating a brunette possibly. Now, it’s not likely it belonged to that old Mrs. Driggs, so we must assume another woman in the office that day. And we must discover who she is.”