"But I only met her down there and danced with her twice."
"Don't know anything about her, I suppose?"
"Not a thing. It was understood that she belonged to a wealthy New York family and was traveling for the benefit of her health. At least, that was the rumor."
"I know of a lot of wealthy families in this town, but I never heard of a Kate Gilbert," Farland said. "I think I'll make a little investigation."
"But why on earth should she be taking a hand in my affairs?" Prale wanted to know.
"Why should you be accused of murder? Why should men tell lies about you?" Farland asked. "Excuse me for a time; I'm going down to the hotel office to find out a few things."
Farland hurried away, and the police detective entered the suite again and made himself comfortable. Jim Farland went directly to the office of the hotel and looked at a city directory. He found no Kate Gilbert listed, except a seamstress who resided in Brooklyn. The telephone directory gave him no help.
But that was not conclusive, of course. A thousand Kate Gilberts might be living in New York, in apartments or at hotels, without having a private telephone.
"Have to get a line on that girl!" Farland told himself. "She's got something to do with this. I'll bet my reputation on it."
Jim Farland went to the smoking room and sat down in a corner. He tried to think it out, groped for a starting point. He considered all the persons connected with the case, one at a time.