"Now," he said, motioning her to drink, "you know your maid's name and address, don't you? Let me have them at once, and within a couple of hours we'll know if the story about the dying mother was true." CHAPTER X THE SECOND MURDER It had been very evident to Allerdyke that ever since Fullaway had mentioned the matter of the missing maid, Celia Lennard had become a victim to doubt, suspicion, and uncertainty. Her colour came and went; her eyes began to show signs of tears; her voice shook. And now, at the American's direct question, she wrung her hands with an almost despairing gesture. "But I can't!" she exclaimed. "I don't know her address--how should I? It's somewhere in London--Bloomsbury, I think--but even then I don't know if that's where her mother lives, to whom she said she was going. I did know her address--I mean I remembered it for a while, at the time I engaged her--a year ago, but I've forgotten it. Oh! do you really think she's robbed me, or helped to rob me?" "Never mind opinions," answered Fullaway curtly. "They're no good. Is this the maid you brought with you once or twice when you called at my office some time ago, over the Pinkie Pell deal?" "Yes--yes, the same!" she answered. "A Frenchwoman?" said Fullaway. "Yes--Lisette. Of course she went with me to your office--that was eight or nine months ago, and I've had her a year. And I had excellent testimonials with her, too. Oh, I can't think that--" "Can't you make an effort to remember her address?" urged Fullaway. "What can we do until we know that?" Celia drew her fine eyebrows together in a palpable effort to think. "I've got it somewhere," she said at last. "I must have it somewhere--most likely in an address-book at my flat--I should be sure to put it down at the time." "Who is there at your flat?" asked Fullaway. "My housekeeper and a maid," answered Celia. "They're always there, whether I'm at home or not. But they couldn't get at what you want--all my papers and things are locked up--and in a hopeless state of confusion, too." Fullaway pushed aside his plate. "Then there's only one thing to be done," he said, with an accent of finality. "We must go up to town at once." Allerdyke, still quietly eating his supper, looked up. "That's just what I was going to suggest," he said. "There's no good to be done hanging about here. Let's get on to the scene of operations. If Miss Lennard's maid has stolen her jewels, she's probably had some hand in the theft from my cousin. We must find her. Now, then, let me come in. I'll look up the train, settle up with these hotel folk, and we'll be off. You give your attention to your packing, Miss Lennard, and leave the rest to me--you won't mind travelling the night?" Celia shook her head. "I don't mind travelling all night for half a dozen nights if I can track my lost property," she said lugubriously. "You're dead sure it's no use stopping here?--that the robbery didn't take place here?"