“Good-day, Inspector,” he exclaimed, “I’m glad to see you. You bring me some good news, I hope?”
French sat down and drew from his pocket the cabinet photograph of Mrs. Vane which he had found in that lady’s sitting-room.
“I don’t know, Mr. Williams,” he answered quietly, “whether that will be news to you or not.”
Mr. Williams’s eyes flashed with excitement as he saw the portrait.
“Bless my soul!” he cried. “Have you found her at last? Mrs. Root!”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you. Are you sure it is Mrs. Root?”
“Sure? Absolutely positive. At least, that’s the woman who got my three thousand pounds, whatever her name may be. Have you found her?”
“Well no,” French admitted. “I’ve not found her yet. But I’m in hopes.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Unfortunately, there’s not much to tell. I’ve got information to the effect that this woman, the original of the photograph, left for New York last Friday. I don’t know if it’s true. If it is, the American police will get her on the ship.”