“Not ten minutes before the young man you call Townsend came.”
Maynard sprang to his feet.
“Then the murderer knew where Townsend was going when he set off on foot from the café—knew where he was going and what he carried, and laid a trap for him!” he cried.
“What was said?” asked Nick.
“He came to the desk and asked if any one had called for Martin Haynes. I said that there had been no such party asked for. Then he said that he had a message for a friend of his who might call there during the night. If he did call, he was to be sent up to room forty-three. When Townsend came in I gave him the message, and he went up at once. I don’t know what the message was.”
“Townsend said nothing about leaving a parcel in the safe when he came in?”
“No, sir. He seemed surprised at the message, and went straight to the elevator.”
“How was the person who took this room dressed?”
“All in black, including hat, tie, and frock coat. He was a dusky sort of fellow, with black eyes and hair; just about Townsend’s size.”
“Not like Townsend in feature or complexion?”