“By Jove, I am inclined to think you are right,” Chick now said earnestly. “But what’s to be done, Nick, in that case?”
“I already have decided,” said Nick. “I was waiting only for you to return.”
“What’s your scheme?”
“Chadwick is a stranger in New York. He cannot go about alone, nor will he venture into the underworld, where, if I am right, Waldmere is in custody. An interview with him may be necessary, however, possibly several of them, and it’s long odds that they will be held in Chadwick’s quarters in the Oriental, since he thinks he has blinded me and feels safe from suspicion.”
“Quite likely, Nick, but what’s your scheme?” Chick repeated.
“We’ll plant a dictograph in Chadwick’s apartments.”
“Ah, I see.”
“That is, providing we can get an adjoining, or an opposite room,” Nick added. “We then can watch his apartments and overhear anything said there. There is no time like the present, moreover, for he left here only an hour ago, presumably to return to the hotel, and he very likely will be at dinner when we arrive there.”
“We could, in that case, turn the trick in a very few minutes.”
“We’ll attempt it,” said Nick, taking the instrument and a coil of fine, pliable wire from a drawer in his desk. “We’ll go up there in disguise. Have a gun on your hip, also, for there’s no telling what may come off.”