He returned very shortly. It seemed that a young lady had called a couple of days ago, and asked for half-a-dozen portraits of Lady Gladys. On account of the Grandcourt House Bazaar, there had been a great run on the photos of the various stallholders, he explained. They happened to have a few copies of this particular picture in stock. The lady purchased six and took them away with her, saying that “they were for reproduction in the illustrated newspapers and the usual copyright fee would be paid.”
“Can you give me a description of the person who bought them?” was Smeaton’s first question, when Mr Kester had concluded his story.
“My assistant who served her is a very intelligent girl. Let us have her in.”
Kester ’phoned and requested Miss Jerningham to be sent to him. The fluffy-haired young lady remembered the incident perfectly, and described the dress and appearance of the young woman who had bought the photographs.
If her description was to be trusted, it was the same person who had asked to see Miss Monkton and refused to leave her name.
Smeaton, who had grown so utterly tired of theories and clues, began to believe he was on something tangible at last.
He rejoined Sheila, but he did not say much.
“I shall follow this clue,” he told her. “The photo was sent for a purpose, and that woman knows why it was sent. I believe you will hear from her again, unless I scared her away.”
“Mr Smeaton, do tell me what you really think. I am sure there is something curious in your mind,” implored the agitated Sheila.
But the detective was not to be charmed from his reserve.