"I don't know," answered Allingham. "I never go over onto Collins Avenue. But—yes, there is a block or two there. We didn't get around there tonight?"
"Tut-tut, one thing at a time," answered the chief. "The note came in at your front window, you said. It wouldn't have been likely to fly over from a street behind you—would it?"
"I'm not so sure of that!" muttered Bailey; and when the chief had gone, he added: "I'm going to sneak around into Collins Avenue before I go home, and sort of get the lay of the land. Come, too?"
"I'll join you in a minute," answered Allingham. "I'm not sure I closed the windows to my back office. Wait for me."
"No; I'll stroll round there and be taking a look," answered Bailey. "You can meet me at a little drug-store there is around the corner." He strolled away and his friend went upstairs to his office. He opened the door with his latch-key, as quietly as possible, meaning just to take a look, and make things secure for the night, but—
There, under the bright electric light, stood—Gertrude Van Deusen.