"There, now, Mrs. Flaherty, never mind your personal feelings. We're in a hurry." Ferrall was busy making notes of the information he was getting, and I could well understand, that any side-light on Vicky's home life was of importance. So I tarried to listen. "How long have you worked for Miss Van Allen?" "A matther av a year or more." "You clean the rooms upstairs, sometimes?" "All over the house. Manny's the time I've shwept an' vacuumed Miss Van Allen's own bedroom an' boodore. An' likewise the music room an' parlure an' all. Yis, sor, I'm here frekint." "What other servants does Miss Van Allen employ?" "Nobody that lives in, 'ceptin' Miss Julie. But there's the laundry woman, as comes--though more often the wash goes out. Thin, there's a chore boy, as runs arrants; an' sometimes a sewin' woman; an' often the caterer man's dagoes. Yis, an' a boy, a Buttons you know, to open the dure for, say, an afternoon party. You see, Miss Van Allen is off visitin' so much, she don't want steady help." "Where does she visit?" "That I dunno. But go, she does, an' I'm thinkin' it's good times she has. For she comes back, chipper an' merry an' glad to see her friends--an' thin, all of a suddint, up an' off agin." I knew that was Vicky Van's habit. All that the woman said corroborated my idea of the little butterfly's frivolous life. So, why should she keep permanent servants if she was at home only half the time? I knew the troubles Aunt Lucy had with her menials, and I approved of Vicky's wisdom. "And that explains the empty icebox," Mrs. Reeves was saying, nodding her head in satisfaction. "Vicky meant to go off to-day, after the house was put in order, and she didn't want a lot of food left to spoil." "Yis, mum," agreed Mrs. Flaherty. "Shall I wash thim dishes now, mum?" And she was allowed to set to work. CHAPTER VII RUTH SCHUYLER There were many calls on Vicky Van's telephone that morning. It seemed to me that the bell rang almost continually. The police people answered it, and one time, I was surprised to learn that the call was for me. I took up the receiver and heard Mr. Bradbury's voice. "I called up your home," he said, "and your sister told me to try this number. Now, look here, Calhoun, I wish you'd go to see Mrs. Schuyler. I've talked with her over the telephone, and she asked me to come up there, but I've got the Crittendon case on this morning, and I can't get away very well. So you go and see what you can do for her. She told me you were there last night, and she's willing to have you in my place." I agreed, feeling rather flattered that the rich man's widow should so readily accept me as Mr. Bradbury's substitute. "I'm sorry you're going there," said Mrs. Reeves, her eyes filling with tears, as I took leave of her. "Of course, the Schuylers will pump you about Vicky, and try to make you say that she killed that man!" "I must tell Mrs. Schuyler the truth," I said.