The detective saluted and went out.
“I am exceedingly sorry I overlooked Whiteside when I escaped from Crenshaw’s garrote in the Chateau,” Harleston remarked. “The simple fact is, I clean forgot him until I was talking with you on the telephone.”
“It’s just as well, Mr. Harleston,” Ranleigh replied. “It served him right. He will be fortunate if his want of precaution doesn’t cost him his job.”
“No, no!” Harleston objected. “Whiteside has been punished. I intercede for him. Let him continue in his job, please.”
“Very good, sir,” Ranleigh acquiesced. “But he’ll be informed that he owes his retention entirely to you.”
When Ranleigh departed, after hearing a detailed account of the evening’s doings at the hotel, Harleston sat for a little while thinking; finally he drew over a pad and made a list of things that required explanation, or seemed to require explanation, at the present stage of the matter:
“(1) The translation of the cipher letter. This should explain Madeline Spencer’s connection with the affair.
“(2) Did the following persons, incidents, or circumstances have any bearing on the affair.
“(a) The lone and handsome woman, who left the Collingwood at three that morning.
“(b) The note ‘à l’aube du jour’ (signed) ‘M,’ found in Crenshaw’s pocket.