“But that’s the coincidence! She did hear that murder described fully. She did talk it over with you. She did show a special interest in it. Then, a week or so later, her husband is killed by identically the same method. She, and she alone--except for a mild old lady--has opportunity to do the deed; the instrument of death is found in her cupboard; and she flies into a rage at the first hint of accusation, of the crime! By the way, if as you hint, one of those men did it, would they leave the medicine dropper that conveyed the poison, in Mrs. Embury’s rooms. Would they want to bring suspicion against the woman they love? Answer me that?” “There might be another solution,” Fifi nodded her wise little head thoughtfully. “Perhaps whoever did it, tried to throw suspicion on Miss Ames.” “That makes him a still more despicable villain. To implicate falsely a harmless old lady--no, I can’t think that.” “Yet you think Mrs. Embury did!” “I don’t know. Perhaps the two women worked in collusion. Or Miss Ames might have wakened and learned the truth, and agreed to keep the secret. In fact, Miss Ames confessed that she did the murder, but we know she was not telling the truth then. However, she knows who did do it--I’ve no doubt of that. Well, Mrs. Desternay, I can’t subscribe to your original, if rather impossible, suggestions, but I thank you for this interview, and I may say you have helped me.” “I have? How? Not against Eunice?” “Never mind, ma’am, I must get off by myself, and straighten out my notes, and see where I stand. Are you going to telephone to Mrs. Embury again?” “No!” and the little head was tossed proudly. “If she wants me, let her call me up. I did my part, now I’ll subside. And, too--if she is--is--oh, I can’t say it! But I’ll wait further developments before I decide just where I stand in regard to Eunice Embury!” Chapter XII In Hanlon’s Office In an office building, away downtown, a little old lady stood in the lobby studying the great bulletin board of room numbers. “Can I help you, ma’am?” asked the elevator starter, seeing her perplexity. “I want Sykes and Barton, Scenic Sign Painters,” she said, positively enough; “but there are so many S’s, I can’t seem to find them!” “All right, ma’am; here they are. Sixth floor, Room 614.” “Thank you,” the old lady said, and entered the elevator he indicated. She seemed preoccupied, and made no move to leave the car, until the elevator man spoke to her twice. “This is the floor you want, lady,” he said. “Room 614. That way, just round that first corner.” Miss Ames started off in the way he pointed, and stood for a moment in front of the door numbered 614. Then, with a determined shake of her thin shoulders, she opened the door and walked in. “I want to see Mr. Hanlon,” she said to the girl at the first desk. “By appointment?” “No; but say it is Miss Ames--he’ll see me.”