The Voice on the Wire by Ball, Eustace Hale

Cronin was equal to the task of picking up the threads, and under his sarcasm, and Cleary's rough arguments, the prisoner admitted some interesting matters about the mysterious employer whose face he had never seen. But Shirley's task was far from completed.

CHAPTER XX

A DOUBLE ON THE TRAIL

Shirley walked up to the Hotel California, at the door of which he met Warren and Taylor just leaving. They looked somewhat embarrassed but his manner was cordiality itself.

"Sorry you are going. I was just stepping up to see Miss Marigold. Won't you come back?"

His invitation was refused. Then Shirley urged Warren to be his guest at the club for dinner that evening. This was accepted with a surprising alacrity. So, he left them, and was soon talking with Helene.

"You missed a curious little sociable party," she assured him. "They tried to quiz me, and I confess that I worked for the same purpose--no results on either side. But, Warren had an unusual telephone call, which disturbed him so much that he hurried away, sooner than he had planned."

Shirley recounted his explorations of the afternoon, with the explanation of Reginald's disturbance. It was certain now that the leader of the assassins had something to cause uneasiness, --enough to take his mind off the campaign of murder and blackmail.

"But he will try to get you out of the way," was her anxious answer. "You are multiplying needless dangers. Why don't you have him arrested now--the phonograph records will identify his voice, will they not? The diary will show his career, and everything seems complete in the case."

Shirley sat down in the window-seat, before replying.

"It is just my own vanity, then, perhaps. I am foolish enough to believe that I can trap him on some crime which will give him the complete punishment he deserves without dragging in the names of these unfortunate old society men. All our trouble would be for nothing, just now, if the story came out. The phonograph records helped me--but I prefer to keep that method to myself, as a matter of interest and selfishness. Somewhere, in that beautiful apartment of his there must be clues which will send him to the electric chair on former crimes: Warren is an artist who has handled other brushes than the ones he used on this masterpiece. He is not a beginner. So, I must ransack his apartment."

"That is impossible, with all the care he takes with bolts and locks."

"We shall see. Meanwhile, I'll spin the yarn of the last thirty-six hours. I'm sure your curiosity is whetted: my own is by no means satisfied."

So he gave her a survey of the progress he had made. Helene brought forth a number of typewritten pages which she had transcribed from the diary, proudly exhibiting a machine which she had ordered sent up from the hotel office.

"There, sir, we are unwinding the ravelings of his past life to an extent. I have found a mysterious reference to a Montfluery case in Paris, during August of last year. What can you do to investigate that lead?"