Such was the information M. Paul had been able to gather from swift and special police sources when he presented himself at the Wilmott hôtel, about luncheon time on Monday. Addison was just starting with some friends for a run down to Fontainebleau in his new Panhard, and he listened impatiently to Coquenil's explanation that he had come in regard to some English bank notes recently paid to Mr. Wilmott, and possibly clever forgeries.
"Really!" exclaimed Addison.
Coquenil hoped that Mr. Wilmott would give him the notes in question in exchange for genuine ones. This would help the investigation.
"Of course, my dear sir," said the American, "but I haven't the notes, they were spent long ago."
Coquenil was sorry to hear this—he wondered if Mr. Wilmott could remember where the notes were spent. After an intellectual effort Addison remembered that he had changed one into French money at Henry's and had paid two or three to a shirt maker on the Rue de la Paix, and the rest—he reflected again, and then said positively: "Why, yes, I gave five or six of them, I think there were six, I'm sure there were, because—" He stopped with a new idea.
"You remember whom you paid them to?" questioned the detective.
"I didn't pay them to anyone," replied Wilmott, "I gave them to my wife."
"Ah!" said Coquenil, and presently he took his departure with polite assurances, whereupon the unsuspecting Addison tooted away complacently for Fontainebleau.
It was now about two o'clock, and the next three hours M. Paul spent with his sources of information studying the career of Pussy Wilmott from special points of view in preparation for a call upon the lady, which he proposed to make later in the afternoon.
He discovered two significant things: first, that, whatever her actual conduct, Mrs. Wilmott had never openly compromised herself. Love affairs she might have had, but no one could say when or where or with whom she had had them; and if, as seemed likely, she was the woman in this Ansonia case, then she had kept her relations with Kittredge in profoundest secrecy.