“That last word is well added.”
“Indeed?”
“You will agree with me later.”
“I seldom agree with men of your vocation,” said Deland, smiling ironically. “Be good enough to explain, Mr. Carter. I do not quite get you. For whom are you seeking?”
“For Pauline Perrot—said to have been murdered by Arthur Gordon,” Nick replied curtly.
“Dear me, is that so?” smiled Deland, with eyes narrowing. “I remember Gordon. It was he who started you on my track several months ago, with very disastrous results. I would not grieve deeply, Carter, if evil did befall Mr. Arthur Gordon.”
“I am very well aware of that, Deland,” Nick said dryly. “Your assurance of it is entirely unnecessary.”
“Pauline Perrot, eh?” queried Deland, unruffled. “Said to have been murdered. She is Gordon’s stenographer, I believe. I think I have seen her coming from his business office. Murdered, eh? What are the circumstances, Carter? Have you succeeded in finding her—or what is left of her?”
“Yes,” Nick said shortly.
“Dear me, is that so?”