Wise smiled at her as at a foolish child, but the saucy little brown face looked very sober as she said, seriously: “and you call yourself a detective! Why, Penny-piece of Wisdom, that recipe is the bone of contention. At least, if it isn’t found, it is.” “And did the women murder him for that?” “Like as not.” “Zizi, you’re a smart little girl, but sometimes you don’t see straight. Now, drop the recipe, or consider it by yourself some other time. Your stunt is to interest friend Bates.” “The nephew?” “Yes. Don’t flirt with him,—that isn’t the _rôle_, but talk kindly to him, and thereby find out all you can about the Everett bunch. If you admire his sweetheart——” “Haven’t seen her yet.” “Well, you will. And then be real nice and girly-chummy with her, and so get both the lovers on your side. Then we can find out things otherwise out of our reach.” “Meaning the oldsters won’t give up.” “Of course not, if they’re guilty. I’ll take hold of the Crippen end,—and then, if your hunch about the recipe has anything to it, it will come out,—and you sidle up to the lovers. We want to get quick action, for the murderer may get scared and run away.” “Shall I insinuate anything about the older women to——” “Mercy, no! You see, Bates is scared to death now, for fear it was his aunt, and even more scared for fear it was Dorcas’ mother! And those very real fears let Bates himself out,—if anybody ever had a thought of him.” “Oh, nobody could.” “No; well, there’s your work cut out for you. Also——” “Also I’ll keep at the servants. I’ve got the housekeeper just where I want her, but there’s a head chambermaid who’ll bear watching and I’m rather interested in the night porter.” “Yes, he’s a knowing one. Flirt with him——” “Oh, no, he’s not that sort. And, too, he’s engaged to a Tartar named Julie, who would scratch out my not altogether unattractive eyes.” “Vanity Box! Well, your eyes do set off what would otherwise be a commonplace face.” Zizi made a face at him that was far from commonplace, and the talk went on. They were indefatigable workers, these two, and what they planned carefully they carried out with equal care. And even while she talked, Zizi was looking about the room for a possible hiding-place for the recipe, which, so far as she knew, existed only in her imagination,—and, she had a dim idea that she had found a direction in which to look. CHAPTER XV And Zizi In her own room, Zizi was holding a confab with the chambermaid, for whom she had sent. “Yes, miss,” the girl said, staring into Zizi’s magnetic eyes. “I had the care of them rooms all the time Sir Binney was in ’em.” “Yes, Molly, I know you did, and I want to know a few things about Sir Herbert Binney. Was he a fussy gentleman, about germs, say, and——” “Germs? miss, how do you mean?” “Was he afraid of imperfect drains, unaired mattresses or careless cleaning?”