"I will talk with her." Nick interposed. "I also will look into the matter. I suppose, Mantell, that you have no suspicion as to the identity of the rascal."
"Not the slightest, Nick."
"Your wife is a very beautiful woman," added the detective. "There was one man who aspired to her love, as I remember, and who had a very deep hatred for you and your father after the wrecking of your big department store and——”
"You mean Gaston Goulard, of course," Mantell cut in.
"Yes."
"But he is dead. If he were alive—well, he is the mis[Pg 16]creant whom I at once would suspect. But the East River does not give up its dead. We know that Goulard was drowned."
Nick did not say what he knew about him, nor of what his suspicions consisted. He saw that they already were entering the spacious grounds in which Mantell’s residence was situated, overlooking the Riverside Drive and the broad, glistening waters of the Hudson.
"I suppose your father is downtown at this hour," he remarked, as the car sped up the driveway.
"Yes. I dropped him at the surrogate court half an hour ago. Some of our business affairs are still unsettled. My wife and mother are here, however, though the latter is an invalid and confined to her room. To the side door, Greeley."
The chauffeur bowed, and the limousine presently came to a stop under the massive porte-cochère protecting a side entrance to the imposing residence.