The Tunnel Mystery.
I went back to my rooms in Shaftesbury Avenue and, in consequence of my telephone message, Teddy came and threw himself in the chair opposite me half an hour later, to discuss the curious disappearance of my well-beloved.
Teddy suggested that we should report the occurrence to the police, and give them Roseye’s photograph, but I was averse to this course. I pointed out that, in all probability, she was with friends somewhere, and that Monday morning would bring me a letter from her.
Well—Monday morning came. Eagerly I went through my correspondence, but there was no word from her, either to her mother or to myself. It was only then that I began to be really anxious, and at noon I went down to Scotland Yard and there, in the cold waiting-room, stated exactly what had occurred.
The inspector, when he looked at the photograph I produced, exclaimed:
“Ah, sir. I’ve often seen Miss Lethmere’s picture in the papers. Why, she’s the famous flying-lady—isn’t she?”
I replied in the affirmative, and explained how she had left her home in Cadogan Gardens to go to Hendon to meet me.
“I see. She was lost sight of between Cadogan Gardens and Hendon,” he exclaimed, adding a memorandum to what he had already written down. “Well, sir,” he said. “We’ll do our best, of course. But—you don’t think Miss Lethmere has disappeared intentionally—eh?”
And he looked at me inquiringly with his dark, serious eyes.
“Intentionally! No—why?”