“Was she asked about them?” The Chief shook his head. “I was afraid of raising her suspicions. If it is a code a question like that would make them change it. But three times this week I’ve despatched some of my people to the Hexagon to get into conversation with the girl, different types each time, and I’ve got only negative results. The first man I sent posed as a rich Colonial newly landed in London, exactly the sort of fish that the West-End crooks and their decoys are always trying to land. She let him buy her a drink; Bessie, the flower-woman, came across in due course and gave her a bunch of white carnations, and presently she made an excuse to join a party at another table. But—note this well!—she did not leave the place until closing time, when she took a taxi home alone. “Two nights later I sent another fellow along. His orders were to sit in the girl’s line of vision, but on no account to address her first. Nothing happened. She made no advances to him; nobody else spoke to her, and she received no flowers. She stayed until closing time and again drove away to Duchess Street by herself. “To-night, by my instructions, young Elliott took her on. As when Finucane was with her, she received, as you saw, a nosegay, not of white flowers only as my Colonial got, but of white flowers mingled with blue. Forthwith she drops young Peter and his friend and goes home. Strange, isn’t it?” “It is, indeed,” observed his companion. “It would help us enormously if we knew what flowers she was given the night that Finucane disappeared!” “I agree. But Rimmer didn’t notice. We could have cross-examined old Bessie; but if this is a code, she’s certainly in it too; and I will _not_ scare them off it until I see more clearly . . .” He paused and, ticking each point off on his fingers, resumed presently: “If it’s a code, this is what I make of it. General instructions to the girl: sit around at the ‘Hex.’ every night, make no advances, but only receive them. A white flower means, ‘Drop the fellow; he does not interest us, but stand by’; a white and a blue say: ‘The fellow does not interest us; you can go home.’” “By Jove!” commented Desmond, enthusiasm in his voice, “this is getting jolly interesting, sir!” “Yes,” agreed the Chief. “But where does it take us? Up against a blank wall. And meanwhile Finucane’s disappearance remains a mystery, and the _morale_ of my staff is being ruined! This negative result business leads nowhere. I want something positive to show whether Madeleine McKenzie is or is not at the bottom of this baffling affair.” “What about old Bessie? Who gives _her_ her orders?” “We’ve drawn blank there, too! My men are in the crowd at the ‘Hex.’ every night to watch the old strap. Fellows often buy flowers from her for ladies at the ‘Hex.,’ but, as far as my young men have been able to see, no one has sent any flowers to Madeleine!”