Penny watched the search with growing uneasiness. She had felt certain that the pearls would be found in the studio. The conversation she had overheard while tied in the closet had led her to believe that the necklace was in Cron's possession. It must be somewhere in the room.
She crossed over to a bookcase which the officers had not yet examined. Instantly, she noted that Hanley Cron was watching her intently. She lifted out the lower row of volumes. Nothing had been hidden behind them.
"Little Miss Detective!" Cron jeered.
Penny took out a few of the books on the second shelf. She uttered a little cry of surprise.
"My Black Imp!" she exclaimed, wheeling toward Cron. "So you were the one who entered my room and stole it."
Triumphantly, she caught up the little clay figure from its hiding place.
"Now I know you're crazy!" Cron snapped. "Someone sent that figure to me in the mail. And rightly it should have been returned to me too! You and that Coulter girl came here and robbed me of it."
Penny gazed thoughtfully down at the Black Imp. She recalled how startled Max Lynch had been when he had viewed it on her father's desk. Then later, either Cron or an agent of his, had risked capture to enter the Nichols house and recover the little statue. Why was it so valuable? What secret did it guard?
Suddenly, Penny knew. With a triumphant laugh, she raised the Black Imp and hurled it against the wall. It shattered into a dozen pieces.
"Say, what's the idea?" a policeman demanded. Then he stared down at the floor.