Dear Sir:
Your secretary, Miss Sana, attempted to jump from the Queensborough Bridge to drown herself, as directed and demanded of her, while under your hypnotic influence, so that you could collect the $50,000 insurance and marry your old time sweetheart.
We advise you to leave this city before five o’clock this evening, as by six o’clock we shall have reported the case to the District Attorney.
Yours truly,
H. Grant,
Robt. E. White.
CHAPTER II
AT THE MORGUE
THE tiny hands of the ormulu clock upon the mantel told Sana’s anxious heart that it was a quarter to six.
With a strange presentiment of coming evil that defied analysis and strongly against the wishes of her hostess, Sana left the house and hurried to the hotel.
Reaching de Rochelle’s suite she rapped at the door. No answer came. A second rapping proved as futile as the first.
“He is out,” murmured the girl as she sought her own room. She wanted to rest, but could not. For fully half an hour she paced the floor, a dreadful oppression as of some impending catastrophe weighing down upon her. She could not shake it off. The very silence of the room seemed to creep into her heart and dull her mind.
Once more she crossed the corridor to de Rochelle’s rooms. This time she gave the door a resounding knock. But still no response. Gently, almost fearfully, she tried the door. It was unlocked, so she entered the room.