In the Onyx Lobby Part 15

"That's it! Not a young chorus chicken, but an older woman, or women.

Adventuresses, you know."

"Yes, that's what I mean. I suppose your first move is to trail his steps of last evening."

"Yes, and I must get about it before the trail gets cold. I've so many ways to look. You know, Peters, he wasn't liked by the girls of this house."

"Well do I know that,--and small wonder. The girls in this house are as nice a bunch of young ladies as ever lived. And the tenants are decent men,--they don't chuck an elevator girl under the chin or try to kiss her every time they ride up or down in her car alone with her!"

"And Sir Herbert did?"

"That he did! I heard it time and again. All the girls were right down mad about it. They're not that sort of girls."

"But I suppose they're not the sort of girls to stab him in their righteous wrath?"

"Oh, good Lord, no! Though there's one of 'em, now,----"

"Which one?"

"No, I'll mention no names. Why, I've no right to hint at such a thing."

"But if you know anything----"

"I don't. Go ahead with your investigations. If there's anything to start your suspicions, let me know which way you're looking."

Corson went downstairs again, and rounded up all the girls employed in the house who might be apt to come in contact with the tenants.

Daisy Lee, an elevator girl, and Julie Baxter, a telephone girl, were the only ones who seemed to have rancorous or vindictive feelings toward the dead man.

Daisy, a frail, pale girl with a soft pretty face and lovely eyes, said frankly she was glad he was dead, for he bothered the life out of her with his attentions.

"He'd wait till I took other people up or down," she said, angrily, "so's he could ride with me alone, and then he'd kiss me."

"Why didn't you report his actions to the management?" Corson said, sharply.

"Well," Daisy blushed and hesitated.

"Speak up, Day!" said Julie. "I'll tell you, sir. She didn't tell 'cause he brought her candy and flowers if she wouldn't."

"That's so," Daisy admitted, pouting. "I like flowers and candies as well as anybody, and they're scarce nowadays."

"Where were you last night?" Corson inquired, suddenly.

"Home and in bed," declared Daisy, and when Julie gave her a quick, surprised look she said, defiantly, "Well, I was!"

"And where were you?" The detective turned to Julie.

"Home and in bed," she said also, but her tone was not convincing.

Corson was about to ask further questions of them, but just then Mr Vail came down in the elevator, and the detective turned to him.

"What!" Vail exclaimed, as the news was told him. "Binney! Why, who did it?"

"Women," said Corson, succinctly, and Vail looked mystified.

"Women! What women? And how do you know?"

He was enlightened as to the written message, and he looked utterly amazed.

"I never heard of such a thing! How could he write all that after he was stabbed with a stroke that killed him?"

"Well, he did! He was just dying when Bob Moore came down from taking you up."

"Oh, then? Yes, Moore and I chatted a few moments about detective stories, and do you mean to say that at that very moment poor old Binney was being murdered a few floors beneath us?"

"Just that, sir."

"What an awful thing! Have you any idea of the ident.i.ty of the women?

How _could_ women do it?"

"That's what everybody says! To me it's just as easy to think women did it as men,--and a heap more logical! Why, a man wouldn't have dared to come into a brightly lighted place like this and stab somebody and get away again! But an angry woman--that's just what she would do!"

"That's true: I mean it's true no man would take a chance like that,--no sane man. But a woman, in a towering rage or insanely jealous or something--well, anyway, it's the most astonis.h.i.+ng case I ever heard of!"

"It's all of that! You knew Sir Herbert Binney pretty well, didn't you, Mr Vail?"

"In a business way; not socially. We had several conferences as to his Bun bakery. I've a Bread business of my own, and we talked about a combine, but we finally gave up the plan and Sir Herbert took his offers to the Crippen concern,--or, said he was going to do so."

"You and he friendly?"

"Oh, yes; the affair was entirely amicable. The whole thing resolved itself into the fact that his Buns were really more cake than bread,--at least, from the American point of view,--and so better adapted to Crippen's use than to ours."

"And you came in last night just before Sir Herbert came?"

"So you tell me now. Naturally, I didn't know he followed me in."

"Where'd you spend the evening?"

"With a friend, Dr Weldon, in Fifty-first Street."

"Mind if I call him up and ask him?"

Vail stared at the detective.

"Meaning you're questioning my veracity, or connecting me with the crime?"

Corson reddened, but stuck to his suggestion. "No, sir, but,--well, you're the nearest I've found to a material witness, and----"

"Well, do you know, it strikes me you don't know what a material witness is! However, I've not the least objection to your calling up my friend,--go to it! Here's his number."