"I believe that gentleman is eminently correct," was the Captain's comment, as he laid the paper aside. "If his insight had been only a little clearer, if he had looked only a little farther, and seen who that woman is, it would save a deal of trouble and worry."
He left his private office and walked to the mail repository at the police clerk's desk. He found several letters addressed to himself; but one, the writing of which was very like copper-plate engraving, caught his instant attention by the peculiarity of its address. It read:
For Detective on De Sanchez Case,
Police Headquarters,
City.
After the Captain had returned to his desk he turned his attention to this letter. The mark of the cancelling-machine showed that it had been mailed at the main post-office that morning. What the envelope contained made him suddenly sit upright.
The writer knows that C. Fairchild had no hand in the murder of the man De Sanchez. When you discover the female who was in the second story of the Nettleton on Wed. P.M., Nov. 4, at the hour of 5, you will know why C. F. has vanished.
Again—the unknown woman!
There was no address to this brief epistle, no date, no signature—nothing else; yet there was an added light in Mr. Converse's gray eyes, as he laid the missive on the desk before him, that lent something like an expression of satisfaction to his almost illegible countenance. He scrutinized the single sheet of paper long and attentively before finally folding and returning it to the envelope.
"Who in the city can write such a hand?" he mused.
After he had placed the anonymous missive in his pocket-book, he drew toward himself a number of bound typewritten sheets—the record of the De Sanchez case. Turning until he found the paragraphs he sought, he read the following:
Besides the front entrance, opening into Court Street, the Nettleton has but one other outside doorway or means of exit. Opening into a high-walled court in the rear is a single door, used only for the purpose of admitting fuel in the winter; during the summer it is open not more than once or twice, when the trash-bin accumulations are removed. During the interim it is locked by a bolt, a No. 4 Yale compound spring lock, and a common padlock passed through staples. Inspection of this door revealed beyond doubt that it had not been disturbed for weeks.