“Are you acquainted with Roland?” Nick inquired.
“Yes, indeed, very well acquainted.”
“Is he a man of good character?”
“Excellent. I consider him incapable of crime.”
“Do you know anything about the new tenants, or whether this furnished house has really been rented?”
“I think it has, sir,” said Sergeant Kennedy. “I used the telephone in the next house, Mr. Carter, and talked with the broker, Mr. Gibson.”
“What did you learn?”
“He stated that he showed the house day before yesterday to a couple who claimed to be Mr. and Mrs. Charles Greenleaf, of Brooklyn. They did not then decide to rent the house, but they called at his office again yesterday afternoon and requested the privilege of taking the key until this morning, stating that they wanted to show the dwelling to a relative who lives with them, and whose business would prevent him from visiting the house except in the evening. Gibson was favorably impressed with the couple. He let the man have the key, with an understanding that it would be returned to-day, and——”
“And the rascals got in their work,” Nick interrupted, with some dryness. “This looks very much as if the furnished house was craftily obtained only in order to pull off a knavish job of some kind.”
“Surely,” said Chick, with a nod. “That’s just about the size of it.”