“I don’t know,” said he. “And I merely mention this as a thing which might be true, understand me. I do not know that it is. But, supposing it is, perhaps your question can be answered. The business of the Campes, as a family, was money. And as the family seems to have been struck at, and not any individual, is it carrying the thing too far to think that money may form the basis of the request?”
“Not to me,” replied Mr. Scanlon, promptly. “In fact, it seems very likely, indeed.”
Ashton-Kirk continued his pacing up and down. For the most part he was silent and intent, apparently thinking hard. Now and then, however, his thoughts took form in muttered words, altogether unintelligible to Scanlon, although that gentleman listened eagerly. After a time the crime specialist pressed one of the series of bell calls, and Fuller made his appearance.
“Begin at once,” said Ashton-Kirk, “and put Burgess and O’Neil on the job if you need help. Get together any facts as to the dealings of the house of Campe during the time Frederic Campe—the one who your report says died aboard his yacht—was at the head of the concern. Go into this to the limit—don’t spare trouble, as it is important. Also try and get some data as to this same Frederic Campe personally. Who were his friends? what were his habits?—what interests, financial or otherwise, did he oppose?”
“It looks like a large order,” said Fuller. “I’ll have to get on the ground.”
“Take the next train south,” directed the crime specialist. “As soon as you get anything, wire it in our private code.”
“Right,” said the assistant. “Anything more?”
“No.”
Fuller left the room with hasty step; and Bat Scanlon nodded his admiration.
“You go after things with both hands in this shop,” said he. “And, as I’ve always claimed, that’s the only way to get them done.”