“’Ow, sir?”
“Didn’t you tell me the telephone company rang up and wanted you to put the receiver on the hook in the library?”
“I didn’t ’ear it ring. James brought the word, sir.”
“Then, what happened upstairs?”
“’Ow do you know, sir? ’Ow’d you know it rang up there!”
“By elimination! It rang then, in Loris’ room? You said ‘nothing downstairs’ in such a way I presume it rang upstairs.”
The butler stroked his chin. It was blue and close-shaved. The purple of his cheeks and neck had deepened. He glanced about the hallway. His eyes wandered toward the grand stairway which, coiled upward to the second story. “I’m ’iding nothing, sir,” he said. “Miss Loris often is called up at night. She’s very popular, sir. I ’e’rd ’er telephone ringing once or twice while I was standing by this door, waiting for the master to come out—which ’e never did.”
Drew hesitated. He plucked out his watch and glanced at the dial. He turned swiftly. “Stay right there,” he said as he parted the portières and faced Delaney who wore the puzzled expression of a man baffled and entirely at sea.
“What did you find?” he snapped to the operative.
“Not a thing, Chief.” Delaney mopped his brow with his sleeve. “Nothing at all!” he added. “Everything regular. Modern—very modern house! Thick, new, fireproof, soundproof, million-dollar building. No trapdoors or panels. No loose boards. No hole in the ceiling. No nothing to hang a ghost on. The gunman who shot Stockbridge went right up in blue smoke, Chief. I quit!”