In the meanwhile, some miles back, another car was spinning toward the east and toward the dawn. But before that car had been launched on its flight several things had happened back on Manhattan.
When Clifford came out of Le Bain’s house, thrusting the scruff-held Slim Harrison before him, and saw as he had expected that the red car belonging to Jack was gone, an officer in uniform halted before the high stoop. He was holding a woman by the arm, and the woman Clifford saw to be Nan Burdette.
“I saw her sneakin’ out the basement door a few minutes ago,” explained the officer, “and as she’s a well-known character, and as she was actin’ suspicious, I thought I’d better see what she’d been up to.”
“So they dropped you, Nan,” said Clifford. “I understand—you weren’t of use to them any longer. But what did you hang behind for?”
“None of your business,” said the woman.
“I guess I understand—if they were pinched you didn’t want to get pinched with them, so you waited to make your getaway.” Then, very sharply: “But what did they do with Mary Regan?”
“I don’t know,” she answered sullenly.
“Hold her, officer,” Clifford ordered. “Lieutenant Kelly may have a definite charge against her in the morning.”
Just then Jimmie Kelly and Uncle George emerged from a shadowy doorway beneath the stoop. There was some one between them, and at sight of this person Clifford stepped quickly toward the two.