“Mr. Blaine, it was fortunate that we found you at liberty and able to assist us in a matter which is of vital importance to us both. This is Miss Anita Lawton, daughter of the late Pennington Lawton, who desires your aid on a most urgent matter.”
“Miss Lawton.” Mr. Elaine bowed over her hand.
When they were seated she said, shyly: “I understand from Ramon––Mr. Hamilton––that you were at one time of great service to my father. I trust that you will be able to help me now, for I feel that I am in the meshes of a conspiracy. You know that my father died suddenly, almost a week ago.”
“Yes, of course. His death was a great loss to the whole country, Miss Lawton.”
“Something occurred a few hours before his death, 30 of which even the coroner is unaware, Mr. Blaine. I told Mr. Hamilton what I knew, but he advised me to say nothing of it, unless further developments ensued.”
“And they have ensued?” the detective asked quietly.
“Yes.”
Anita then detailed to Mr. Blaine the incident of her father’s nocturnal visitor. As she told him the conversation she had overheard, it seemed to her that the eyes of the detective narrowed slightly, but no other change of expression betrayed the fact that the incident might have held a significance in his mind.
“The voice was entirely strange to you?” he asked.
“Yes; I have never heard it before, but it made such an impression upon me that I think I would recognize it instantly whenever or wherever I might happen to hear it.”