with murder in her eyes from the top of the stairs. …
A sudden inspiration flashed blindingly across his consciousness. If it could be true, it would explain much; and yet. …
"Sergeant, I think she's planning a getaway." Smith appeared suddenly before him.
"Who?" Odell roused himself from his meditations.
"Miss Cissie. She has been moving briskly back and forth in her room for the last hour, slamming bureau-drawers and the closet-door; and she is humming to herself as if she was mighty pleased over something. I thought I'd better let you know in case you were going out."
"All right. If she leaves the house trail her; and take Blake or Shaw along. By the way, what was the address of that apartment house she went to yesterday looking for that Mrs. Gael?"
"Number 120-A West Ninety-third Street. But what's the idea of taking Blake or Shaw along, Sergeant, if I trail Miss Cissie?"
"Because in the event that she keeps an appointment one of you will have to escort her home and the other take Farley Drew to Headquarters." Odell smiled. "That is the only date she will leave this house to keep, and it may be our best chance of locating him unless she had the right dope in going to that other woman's apartment yesterday. I'm going out now, but I'll be back before night in any event. Don't take your hand off your number for a minute, Smith."
In the lower hall, however, he was arrested as on a similar occasion two days before by the sound of youthful voices in the drawing-room, and after a moment's hesitation be knocked upon the door.
