“I agree with you,” said Nick, coolly placing a chair near that of the lawyer and sitting down. “There is serious occasion for it, Mr. Paulding, as I now will explain: I happen to know that Mr. Gaston Todd has not left that second-floor corridor in the Waldmere Chambers. He was found dead there immediately after you left the building.”
“Dead—found dead!” Paulding stared amazedly. “What are you saying? Do you really mean it—that Gaston Todd is—dead!”
If Nick had had even a lingering shadow of suspicion, it would have been instantly dispelled by the expression of the lawyer’s face. It was one that no man could have feigned, however accomplished an actor. He bowed and replied:
“Yes, Mr. Paulding, that is precisely what I mean. Gaston Todd is dead.”
“Dear me, I can hardly believe it. It seems utterly incredible. Found dead, you say——”
“Exactly. Where you last saw him. He was——”
“Stop a moment! What do you imply by that?”
Paulding’s face had changed like a flash. His brows fell and his eyes took on a threatening gleam and glitter. He lurched forward in his chair, adding quickly:
“Why did you say he was found immediately after I left the building, and where I last saw him? What are you insinuating? What are you trying to put over on me? Why, if you knew he was dead, did you come here to pretend you were seeking him? Who the devil are you, that you impose upon me in this way, implying that I——”
“Here is my card,” the detective blandly interposed, tendering it. “You may, perhaps, know me by name.”