Mrs. Hilliard smiled. “I know what you are thinking—and I kind of think so myself. That Miss Stoddard is the thief. But you’d never believe it to look at her. She’s prim and proper and austere.”
“You never can tell,” said Mary Louise.
“No, that’s true.... Well, you’ll have a good chance to judge for yourself tonight. Miss Stoddard is the one who is in charge of the book club. There is a library fund in the endowment, and these women decide upon what to buy.”
“Tell me which of these guests belong to the club,” urged the girl.
“All the regular residents belong, except Miss Violet Granger. She is an artist—she draws for magazines and for an advertising firm—and she always keeps apart from the other guests. She is the one from whom the oil painting and the fifty dollars were stolen.”
Mary Louise nodded and put a check beside Miss Granger’s name.
“Now,” she said, “I ought to check the names of all the other people who have had valuables stolen. Who else was there?”
“Well, as I told you, the hotel itself lost the silverware and the Chinese vase. Then there were four watches stolen—my own, Mrs. Weinberger’s, and the two Walder girls.... By the way, they are lovely girls, Mary Louise—they’ve lived here a couple of years, and I know their families—I’m sure you’re going to like them....
“And the final—at least, I hope it’s the final robbery—was the painting and the money from Miss Granger’s room. But I have a feeling that isn’t the end, and the guests are all nervous too. It’s hurting our business—and—making my own job seem uncertain.”
Mary Louise closed her notebook thoughtfully and sighed.