With the cunning of a Jimmy Valentine he manipulated the tumblers. Ramon Hamilton, his discomfiture forgotten, watched with breathless interest.
The detective betrayed to the unsuspecting banker no sign of his elation at the discovery, but following their interview he returned to his office and sent for the four young girls whom he had taken from the Anita Lawton Club and installed in the offices of the men he suspected.
The first to respond was Margaret Hefferman, who had been sent as stenographer to Rockamore, the promoter.
“You followed my instructions, Miss Hefferman,” asked Blaine. “You kept a list for me of Mr. Rockamore’s visitors?”
“Yes, sir. I have it here in my bag. I also brought carbon copies of two letters which Mr. Rockamore dictated and which I thought might have some bearing on the matter in which you are interested––although I could not quite understand them myself.”
“Let me see them, please.”
Blaine took the documents and list of names, scanning them quickly and sharply with a practised eye. The names were those of the biggest men in the city––bankers, brokers, financiers and promoters. Among them, that of President Mallowe and Timothy Carlis appeared frequently. At only one did Henry Blaine pause––at that of Mark Paddington. He had known the man as an employee of a somewhat shady private detective agency several years before and had heard that he had later been connected in some capacity with the city police, but had never come into actual contact with him.
What business could a detective of his caliber have to do with Bertrand Rockamore?