“Of course I do,” his assistant answered. “He has taken another name and given up his profession—on the surface, at least. He’s living on East Twenty-sixth Street——”
“Exactly—a very few blocks from the Metropolitan Building!” interrupted his chief.
“You mean——”
“I have a ‘hunch,’ as Patsy would call it, that Grantley has taken Helga Lund to Chester’s house. Chester has rented one of those old-fashioned, run-down bricks across from the armory. It’s liable to be demolished almost any day, to make way for a new skyscraper, and he doubtless gets it for a song. He can do what he pleases there, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find that Grantley had been paying the rent in anticipation of something of this sort. They undoubtedly think that we lost sight of Chester long ago.”
“By George! I’ll wager you’re right, chief!” exclaimed Chick. “The fact that we’ve traced Grantley to the Metropolitan Building certainly looks significant, in view of Chester’s house being so near to it. It’s only about five minutes’ walk, and a man with Grantley’s resourcefulness could easily have made enough changes in his appearance and that of Miss Lund, while in the Metropolitan Building, to have made it impossible for the two who entered Chester’s house to be identified with those who had left the Wentworth-Belding an hour or so before.”
“That’s the way it strikes me,” agreed the detective. “And, if the scoundrel took her there last night, they are doubtless there now. I think we’re sufficiently justified in forcing our way into the house and searching it, and that without delay. We don’t know enough to take the police into our confidence as yet; therefore, the raid will have to be purely on our own responsibility. We must put our theory to the test at once, however, without giving Grantley any more time to harm the actress. Heaven knows he’s had enough opportunity to do so already!”
“Right! We can’t wait for darkness or reënforcements. It will have to be a daylight job, put through just as we are. If we find ourselves on the wrong scent, Chester will be in a position to make it hot for us—or would be, if he had any standing—but we’ll have to risk that.”
“Well, if Chester—or Schofield, as he is calling himself now—is tending to his new business as a commercial chemist, he ought to be away at this hour. That remains to be seen, however. I imagine, at any rate, that we can handle any situation that is likely to arise. If time were not so precious, it would be better to have some of the other boys along with us, but we don’t know what may be happening at this very moment. Come on. We can plan our campaign on the way.”
A couple of tall loft buildings had already replaced part of the old row of houses on the north side of Twenty-sixth Street, beginning at Fourth Avenue. Nick and his assistant entered the second of these and took the elevator to one of the upper floors, from the eastern corridor of which they could obtain a view of the house occupied by young Doctor Chester, together with its approaches, back and front.
The house consisted of a high basement—occupied by a little hand laundry—and three upper stories, the main floor being reached by a flight of iron steps at the front.