“You are to remain outside,” said Nick. “I may decide not to expose my hand, which would be to our disadvantage if she really is responsible for Maybrick’s absence.”
“That’s right, too.”
“It may be necessary to shadow her, moreover, so you had better stick round outside and await my instructions. There will be something doing, I think, after I have interviewed this woman.”
CHAPTER IV.
NICK CARTER’S RUSE.
Two o’clock found Nick Carter at the door of an office on the second floor of the local bank building. He was reading the tenant’s sign on a polished brass plate: “Kate Crandall. Public Stenographer.[Pg 16]”
Nick listened briefly, hearing nothing from within, and he then opened the door and entered.
The office was attractively furnished. A costly Persian rug covered the floor. Against one of the walls stood an expensive roll-top desk. On a stand near by were two typewriters. On a table in the middle of the office, covered with books and magazines, was a huge cut-glass jar, literally overflowing with magnificent roses.
Nick instantly noticed these costly furnishings, which were much too expensive for one who works for a living, and he drew a correct conclusion—that Kate Crandall had wealthy admirers, and that she had no scruples over accepting valuable tokens of their affection.
She was seated in an armchair near one of the lace-draped windows, absorbed in a magazine story when the detective entered.
She was a pronounced brunette, strikingly handsome, with regular features, a rich velvety complexion, languorous dark eyes, and full red lips, a face evincing a sensuous nature and a fiery temper. Her fine figure was a bit showily clad. Several costly diamonds adorned her shapely hands. One high-heeled French shoe and a bit of silk hosiery protruded from below her stylish blue skirt.