“I will send in a card bearing a fictitious name,” he added. “Henderson Black.”
“Henderson Black,” repeated the banker. “I will remember it.”
It was nearly six o’clock when Nick departed with Patsy. Half an hour later both were seated at dinner in the detective’s Madison Avenue residence, in company with his chief assistant, Chick Carter, who had been fully informed of the case.
“There are several obvious points, Nick, at least,” he remarked. “The crooks must have known that Lucy Sloan was in the habit of taking the two children to the park each afternoon, also where she would be at a certain time, and just how the job could be safely done.”
“True,” Nick agreed. “That goes without saying.”
“And that familiarity with her daily doings, together with the fact that they got away with the child so quickly and without any outcry, are very significant,” Chick added. “The child must have known her abductor, and the latter must have known that the child could be easily and quickly enticed away.”
“Certainly. That also is obvious.”
“Who is the woman, then, or man, as the case may be, who has been so friendly with the child to have felt sure of being able to successfully pull off such a job?”
Nick laughed a bit grimly.
“That is a pertinent question, Chick, more easily asked than answered,” he replied. “It is useless to speculate upon it at this stage of the game. We will await the promised letter from the rascals. We then may find the answer between the lines.”