He took from his pocket the other slip of paper, which the detective at the Ritz had just given to him.
“Gold-mesh handbag containing $200.
2 pearl rings....”
“If this woman, this Mrs. Ferguson, is responsible for all this, she certainly ought to be kept behind prison bars for the rest of her life,” he thought. “But we’ll see—we’ll see....”
His train passed through a small town, and from his window Mr. Gay could see the Christmas decorations in the houses. How he wished that he and Mary Louise could both be at home, taking part in the happy celebrations! Trimming the tree, filling the stockings, eating the turkey dinner together! But there would be more Christmases, he reminded himself, and the whole family would be together on New Year’s Day.
It was dusk when he arrived in Baltimore and he took a taxi straight to the Hotel Phillips. He engaged a room for he meant to take a shower and have his dinner there, even if he did not remain all night.
A few minutes later he was interviewing the hotel detective in his private office.
“Is there a Mrs. Ferguson staying here?” he asked, after he had shown his badge.
“Yes, there is,” replied the other man. “She came two days ago with two daughters and four other girls as guests. They have a suite of rooms on the ninth floor and are planning to stay over Christmas.”
“Has anything been stolen since their arrival?” questioned Mr. Gay.