“Why are you averse to my going with you to the rectory?” she inquired, with a look of surprise.
“Only because publicity is undesirable at present, if it can be prevented. And it may be of advantage to me if my investigations are not suspected,” Nick explained. “If you were seen returning with two men after your visit this morning, curiosity might be aroused and inquiries and comments would follow.”
“Very well, Mr. Carter, in that case,” Miss Farley said. “But you must let me hear from you. I shall feel very anxious.”
“I certainly will,” Nick assured her, while he alighted with Patsy.
The limousine sped away, leaving the two detectives in a broad, beautifully shaded avenue flanked on both sides with handsome dwellings, each occupying spacious and finely kept grounds, evincing the opulence and refinement of the residents.
St. Lawrence’s Church occupied a corner in the near distance. It was a handsome edifice, somewhat back from the avenue, and flanked by a quiet side street, and Nick rightly inferred that the rectory, the home of the Reverend Austin Maybrick and his elderly housekeeper, was situated back of the church, and fronted on the side street.
“We’ll turn back to the corner, Patsy, and go through the side street,” he remarked, after briefly viewing the surroundings. “That will, unless I am much mistaken, bring us to the rectory.[Pg 12]”
“I’m with you,” said Patsy tritely. “What do you make of the case, chief? Does it look bad to you?”
“Quite so,” Nick replied. “I did not increase Miss Farley’s anxiety by telling her so, but I think Maybrick is in wrong, if not up against a more desperate game than he can pull out of unaided.”
“It looks so, chief, for fair,” said Patsy, who had been informed of Miss Farley’s disclosures.