"Not at all," Mrs. Parsons' smile was most engaging. "The car and I are at your service, Inspector. I have no engagements this morning." She paused to wave her hand to the occupants of a passing car, then turned once more to the silent inspector. "Has anything new developed in the Baird murder mystery?" "Only what was in the morning newspapers," answered Mitchell guardedly. Mrs. Parsons' gay laugh interrupted him. "I applaud your caution," she said. "The morning newspapers contained no news whatever. Perhaps my question was overstepping etiquette, but how about the other matter about which I consulted you? I mean Edward Rodgers and his erstwhile friend, Major Leigh Wallace. What of them?" Mitchell considered the pretty widow before replying. Her limpid brown eyes were raised to his with an appealing earnestness that was irresistible. "I am on my way to see Major Wallace now," he said. "I had hoped to overtake him before he reached the Munitions Building." "Not by walking, surely," she laughed. "Major Wallace is driving his car to-day and he seldom keeps within the city's speed limit. And to-day was no exception judging from the way he passed me on the way downtown." "Indeed?" He turned so that he could face her as they talked. "His landlady informed me that Major Wallace plans to leave shortly for the west." Mrs. Parsons raised her eyebrows in polite surprise. "So soon," she murmured. "How odd! And--" her voice gained in sharpness, "does Edward Rodgers also plan to leave Washington?" "I don't know what he _had_ planned," with quiet emphasis. "But he is not going anywhere just now." "Why not?" "Because he was shot last night." Mrs. Parsons' convulsive jump almost precipitated her out of the car as the chauffeur made the turn into the street leading to the Munitions Building. "What--what did you say?" she stammered. "I did not mean to startle you," Mitchell spoke contritely, alarmed by her pallor. "I thought that you had heard the news." "I have heard nothing--" she spoke rapidly, clipping her words. "There was nothing in the morning paper--" "No, we didn't give it out to the press." "Then how did you expect me to know anything of the shooting?" "I thought Miss Kitty Baird might have telephoned to you--" Mitchell was watching her closely. "She didn't, eh?" "No." Mrs. Parsons sat back more comfortably in her car. "Was Mr. Rodgers killed?" Mitchell shook his head. "Seriously injured," he said soberly. "It's a bad business." "How did the shooting occur?" she asked. The car had stopped before the lower entrance to the Munitions Building, but Mrs. Parsons motioned to her chauffeur to wait as he started to open the car door. "Oh, some one was skylarking in Rock Creek Park and shot Mr. Rodgers as he and Miss Kitty Baird were motoring home last night," explained Mitchell. "Another case of an innocent bystander."