"Locked," she affirmed, giving the handle a tug. "Wait a minute, Bill. I'll be right back." She disappeared in the direction of the house.
Bill shut off the engine and clambered down to the ground. Presently he saw her coming back, accompanied by a woman in maid's cap and apron.
"All right, Lizzie," her young mistress said, "I want to look at something first. Then you can tell us exactly what happened. That's right, give me the key."
She swung open one of the wide doors.
"The Packard's there, just as I told you, Miss Dorothy," volunteered Lizzie as the three stepped inside the garage. "It's your car that's missing."
"I left it at the beach club--" Dorothy cut herself short. "The license plates are gone from the Packard!"
"Wasn't that to be expected after what the cop told us in the bank?" There was a hint of mockery in Bill's voice.
"Of course. But the point is--were they taken this afternoon while Daddy had the car parked behind the bank--or later this evening after he drove home? He would never remember whether he drove from the bank with the plates still attached or not. He never notices details like that."
Bill seemed amused. "Perhaps not--but what's the difference?"
"Wait a minute. You'll soon get another slant. Now, Lizzie--start from the very beginning."