“But so many persons saw Chatham,” he protested weakly. “It seems incredible that everybody could have been deceived—”
“Burke,” interposed Clarendon, with his odd smile, “I know the efficacy of a good disguise. I could cause a dozen people — friends of yours — to swear that they had seen you on Broadway, or in a newspaper office, while you never left this room.
“It is my knowledge of disguise that leads me to suppose — simply to suppose, mind you — that the last person who saw the actual Horace Chatham was Doctor Palermo. That is, if Doctor Palermo saw him.”
“Now it’s becoming more confusing,” objected Burke. “If we reject Doctor Palermo—”
“We are not rejecting him,” returned Clarendon. “It is possible, of course, that Palermo was also duped.
But, there are also other possibilities.
“For example: Palermo may be shielding the false Horace Chatham. Or Chatham may have dropped out of the picture after he left Palermo’s apartment. Or—”
The speaker stopped. He simply spread his hands in an expressive gesture. Somehow, Burke understood the significance more thoroughly than if Clarendon had spoken.
“Perhaps,” murmured the former reporter, “perhaps something happened to Horace Chatham when he was with Doctor Palermo!”
“Exactly.” Clarendon spoke firmly. “That is why, Burke, I expect you to resume an old role tonight — that of a newspaper reporter, seeking an interview. You will call on Doctor Palermo, and question him regarding Horace Chatham.