“Nothing—now,” he admitted frankly. “We know the code. Help me decipher these other eleven envelopes and the burnt one. Fortunately the stamps on it are intact.”
Half an hour later Miriam and Trenholm sat back in their chairs and looked at each other. The latter took up one of the pads they had used.
“Here are the thirteen decoded messages, of five words each, concealed in the stamps on the thirteen envelopes,” he stated. “Listen carefully, Miss Ward, and tell me what you make of them.”
Fear Paul suspicious of Betty.
Unwise to trust her judgment.
Judge her influence is waning.
Is there any other woman?
Last interview with Paul disastrous.
He declines to return jewel.
Do not lose your nerve.
Believe he can prove nothing.
Does not guess your motive.
Situation growing tense; money required.
Learned hiding place changed often.
Next time can tell definitely.
Watch thirteenth letter; suicides grave.
Miriam wrinkled her forehead in deep thought. “For whom were those messages intended, Mr. Trenholm?” she asked.
“For the man who later killed Paul Abbott,” he replied quietly.
“And he—”
“Is some one who was with Paul and had access to his mail, and so could read the code on these apparently innocent letters.” Trenholm rose suddenly and looked down at her. “It was a devilish scheme and devilishly carried out.”
“By Boris Zybinn’s confederate.” Miriam also rose. “Have you any idea who that confederate is?”
Absently Trenholm took up his pipe and fingered it. “Some one who knew Paul intimately,” he said. “And who has been with him during the past few months, for the dates on these letters cover that period of time. But as to his identity—the coded messages give no clue.”