He turned to an open roll-top desk, from which he took a somewhat crumpled scrap of paper, evidently torn from a notebook. Written on it with a lead pencil were the following lines:
“Dear Old Pal: I am waiting with the car where you directed. Bring the gink out quickly, or a gun may move me on. Land him in the car, pal, and I’ll do the rest. I’ve got the stuff to quiet him until we can slip him the steel. I’ll pick you up as directed. Have the cat land him and there’ll be nothing to it.
Toby.”
Nick Carter frowned while he read this communication, so suggestive of sanguinary designs. Had it been written by the driver of the limousine in which Waldmere was seen to depart with an unknown woman? Was it she referred to as the cat? Had the note been sent in to the wearer of the toreador costume? Had he slipped it into the pocket and inadvertently left it there when returning the costume?
Naturally, of course, these questions at once arose in Nick’s mind, and they seemed to compel affirmative answers. He gave the note to Patsy to read, then turned to Perrot and inquired:
“When was this costume returned?”
“A messenger brought it about an hour ago,” said Perrot. “My girl Marie found the paper in the pocket and brought it to me. It was not there when the costume went out. We are sure of that, Monsieur Carter.”
“Who had the costume last night?”
“It was let to a man who gave the name of John Talbot, address Lexington Avenue. He paid in advance and sent for ze costume yesterday afternoon. I have sent my clerk to ze address, but no such a man is known there.”
“That does not surprise me,” said Nick. “Talbot was a stranger to you?”