“Now you must stay to dinner, Mr North,” the detective urged him. “You can put yourself to right enough for our informal meal, and it is too late for you to get to your home by dinner time.”
So North stayed, and at dinner they all discussed freely the whole affair. Mrs Varian did not appear at the table, the nurse thinking it was better for her to have no more excitement that day.
So Zizi calmly appropriated the chair at the head of the table, and acted the part of hostess prettily and capably.
Wise changed his mind about confiding to Lawrence North the matter of the ransom letters, and concluded that in the absence of Mrs Varian the subject might be discussed.
“At any rate,” the detective summed up, “we’re in the possession of positive knowledge. We know that Betty was kidnapped,——”
“Oh, come now,” North said, thoughtfully, “those letters may be faked,—it seems to me they must be,—by some clever villain who expects to get all that money under false promises. I don’t believe for a minute there is a kidnapper—why would anyone kidnap Betty Varian?”
“For the usual kidnapper’s reason,—ransom,” Wise replied.
“Well, how did the kidnapper get in?”
“Oh, Mr North!” Wise threw up his hands. “This from you! I made up my mind that if one more person said to me, ‘How did the kidnapper get in?’ I’d have him arrested! I don’t know how he got in,—but I’m going to find out!”
“I think I won’t assist in the work personally the next time you try,” Lawrence said. “I scarcely could get myself presentable for dinner! But, seriously, Mr Wise, you asked me up here to consult with you. Now, I’m sure we must agree, that there is a way in and out of this house that we don’t know of. And that explains the entrance of the person who killed that poor girl in the kitchen.”