"Three o'clock will be very nice," came a feminine voice--soft, with a bit of a drawl.

"Very well," Ranleigh replied. "If you will give me your name--I missed it. Whom am I to expect at three?"

"Mrs. Winton, of the Burlingame apartments. I'll be punctual--and thank you so much. Good-bye!"

"Anything familiar about the voice?" Ranleigh asked, pushing back the instrument.

Harleston shook his head in negation.

"I thought it might be your Lady of Peac.o.c.k Alley, for it's about the cab matter. She says that she has something to tell me regarding a mysterious cab on Eighteenth Street last night sometime about one o'clock."

"There are quite too many women in this affair," Harleston commented.

"However, the Burlingame is almost directly across the street from where I found the cab, so her story will be interesting--if it's not a plant."

"And it may be even more interesting if it is a plant," Ranleigh added.

"If you will come in a bit before three, I'll put you where you can see and hear everything that takes place."

"I'll do it!" said Harleston.

VI

THE GREY-STONE HOUSE

Harleston returned at a quarter to three, and Ranleigh showed him into the small room at the rear, provided with every facility for seeing what went on and overhearing and reducing what was said in the Superintendent's private office.

Promptly at three, Mrs. Winton was announced by appointment, and was instantly admitted.

She was about thirty years of age, slender, with dark hair and a face just missing beauty. She was gowned in black, with a bunch of violets at her waist, and she wore a large mesh veil, through which her particularly fine dark eyes sparkled discriminatingly.

The Superintendent arose and bowed graciously. Ranleigh was a gentleman by birth and by breeding.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Winton?" he asked, placing a chair for her--where her face would be in full view from the cabinet.

"You can do nothing for me, sir," she replied, with a charming smile. "I came to you as head of the Police Department for the purpose of detailing what I saw in connection with the matter I mentioned to you over the telephone. It may be of no value to you--I even may do wrong in volunteering my information, but--"

"On the contrary," the Superintendent interjected, "you confer a great favour on this Department by reporting to it any suspicious circ.u.mstances. It is for it to investigate and determine whether they call for action. Pray proceed, my dear Mrs. Winton."

She gave him another charming smile and went on.

"I was out last evening, and it was after midnight when I got back to the Burlingame. My apartment is on the third floor front. Instead of going to bed at once, I sat down at the open window to enjoy the gentle breeze. I must have dozed, for I was aroused by a cab coming up Eighteenth and stopping before the large, grey-stone house opposite--the rest of the houses are brick--which was unoccupied until two days ago, when it was rented furnished. I live just across the street and hence I notice these things--casually of course, as one does. I watched the cab with languid interest; saw the driver descend from the box, which seemed a bit peculiar; but when, instead of going to the door of the cab, he went up the front steps and into the house--the door of which he opened with a key that he took from his pocket--my curiosity was aroused. A moment later, a man in evening dress came leisurely out and sauntered to the carriage. It seemed to me he was interested in looking around him, and at the houses opposite, rather than at the cab. He remained at the cab, presumably in talk with those within, for several minutes.

Presently the door clicked and a woman stepped out, followed by a man.

The woman disappeared into the house. The two men drew in so close to the cab that they were hidden from me; when they reappeared, they were carrying a woman--or her body--between them. They hurriedly crossed the sidewalk mounted the steps, and the house-door closed behind them instantly. The noise of the door seemed to arouse the horse, doubtless he took it for the door of the cab, and he started slowly up the street toward Ma.s.sachusetts Avenue. After walking a short distance, and in front of a vacant lot near the corner, he halted--obviously he realized that no one was holding the lines, and he was waiting for his driver to return. Just then one of the men put his head out of the doorway, saw that the horse was no longer before the house, and dodged quickly back.

I waited for further developments from the house. None came, except that in one of the rooms a light was made, but it was behind closed shades.

Pretty soon the horse calmly lay down in the shafts, stretched out, and apparently went to sleep. Disturbed by the occurrence, and debating what I ought to do, I sat a while longer; and I must have dozed again, for when I awoke the house was dark, and a man, a strange man, I think, was standing beside the cab, and the horse was up. The man was gathering the reins; he fastened them to the driver's seat, spoke to the horse, and the horse moved off and into Ma.s.sachusetts Avenue toward Dupont Circle.

The man watched him for a moment; then turned and went down Ma.s.sachusetts Avenue. After waiting a short while, I went to bed. This morning, I decided it was well for you to know of the episode."

"And you have told it wonderfully well, Mrs. Winton," said the Superintendent, "wonderfully well, indeed."

"You don't know how often I rehea.r.s.ed," she laughed, "nor how much of the essentials I may have omitted!"

"Not much, I fancy. However, you'll not object, I suppose, to answering a few questions as to details."

"I wish you to ask anything that suggests itself," she replied. "I've an appointment at the Chateau at five; just give me time to keep it."

"We'll get through long before five!" the Superintendent smiled, though his shrewd grey eyes were coldly critical. It was most unlikely that she was the Lady of Peac.o.c.k Alley; yet all things are possible where a woman is concerned, as he knew from experience. "About what time was it when the cab stopped before the house?" he asked.

"About one o'clock, as near as I can judge," she answered.

"What was the interval between the driver's going into the house and the man in evening clothes coming out?"

"Scarcely any interval--not more than a minute."

"Do you know how long a minute is?" said Ranleigh, drawing out his watch.

"Not exactly!" she admitted.

"Do you mind if I test you?"

"Not in the least."

"Then tell me when it is a minute...."

"Now?" said she.

"Fourteen seconds!" he smiled.

"Fourteen seconds!" she exclaimed incredulously "It's not possible."

"You're considerably above the average, Mrs. Winton. However, it depends much on what you're doing at the moment. Last night when you were watching, not estimating, you probably were nearer right as to the interval. When, may I ask, did the driver reappear?"

"He didn't reappear--at least that I saw; he may have come out of the house while I dozed."

"Might not the man that you saw last have been he?"

"I'm perfectly sure it wasn't. The driver was medium-sized and stout, this man was tall and slender. I couldn't have been mistaken."

Ranleigh nodded. Her story was testing up very well on the known points.

"Now, Mrs. Winton, can you give some description of the woman in the case--her appearance--how she was dressed--anything to aid us in identifying her?"

"I'm afraid I can't be of much help," Mrs. Winton replied. "She was, I think, clad in a dark street gown. In the uncertain electric light, I could not distinguish the colour--and the men were so close to her I had little chance to see. About all I'm sure of is that it was a woman; slender and about the average height. I did not see her face."

The Chief nodded again.

"What about the house, Mrs. Winton? Did you see anything unusual before tonight?"