“The fact that you remember meeting him may be the means of saving his life. Can you tell me at what time that was?”
“Oh, Lord, Mr. Ellery, I never know the time. It was some time in the evening, fairly early. We left before the show was over. Horace would probably know.”
“Did Mr. Mandleham see Mr. Brooklyn?”
“Yes, he did. When he came back he asked me who it was I had been talking to.”
At this point a new voice struck into the conversation. “Hallo, Kitty, you seem very deep in something. Haven’t you even a word for me?”
“Why, here is Horace,” said Kitty. “I’ve been waiting for you for hours, Horace. It’s really too bad. But now you come over here, and make yourself really useful for a minute. It’s not a thing you do often.”
Horace Mandleham was fortunately quite precise about the time. They had left the Alhambra a few minutes after half-past ten, and he had come back with the taxi just about a quarter to eleven. Walter Brooklyn had at that moment taken his leave of Kitty Frensham. Yes, that was the man. He recognised at once the photograph which Ellery passed across to him. He was quite ready to swear to it, if it was of any importance. He had seen the evening paper, and knew the chap was in trouble.
A good deal to his surprise, Ellery found that he definitely liked Kitty Frensham, and before he left he had even promised to go and see her soon in her flat in Chelsea, which, as she told him, was hardly more than round the corner from his own rooms. She had promised, and had made Mandleham promise as well, to give every help that could possibly be given in clearing Walter Brooklyn, although she had made it plain that she did not like him, and although her reluctance to find herself in a court of law was evident enough. Still, she had recognised that she ought to do what she could; and Ellery half-believed that a part of her willingness was due to the fact that he had impressed her favourably. He had come prepared to spend money in securing the evidence of a “lovely lady” of unlovely repute: he had secured the willing testimony of an exceedingly clever and, even to his temperament, fascinating woman. Kitty Frensham was certainly not the sort of person to whom money could be offered for such a service. It puzzled Ellery that such a woman should have, as he put it to himself, “gone to the bad.” She was worthy of something better than that anæmic specimen, Mandleham.
It was by this time too late to do more; but, before going home, Ellery ’phoned through to Joan, who was waiting up for a message from him and told her briefly what he had accomplished. The quest, he said, had taken him to some strange places; he would tell her all about it on the morrow. Joan, too, had news of a sort; but she said that it would keep. Both of them retired for the night well pleased with the results of their first evening’s experience of practical detective work. It had been easy going so far; but, Ellery said to himself, fortune had a most encouraging way of smiling on the beginner. Probably their troubles were still to come.