What do you think of that?"
So that was how the wind lay--Bruce making love to Mrs. Parker
and she presumably betraying her husband's secrets. I thought I
saw it all: the note from somebody exposing the scheme, Parker's
incredulity, Bruce sitting by him and catching sight of the note,
his hurrying out into the ladies' department, and then the shot.
But who fired it? After all, I had only picked up another clue.
Kennedy was not at the apartment at dinner, and an inquiry at the
laboratory was fruitless also. So I sat down to fidget for a
while. Pretty soon the buzzer on the door sounded, and I opened
it to find a messenger-boy with a large brown paper parcel.
"Is Mr. Bruce here?" he asked.
"Why, no, he doesn't--" then I checked myself and added "He will
be here presently. You can leave the bundle."
"Well, this is the parcel he telephoned for. His valet told me to
tell him that they had a hard time to find it, but he guesses
it's all right. The charges are forty cents. Sign here."
I signed the book, feeling like a thief, and the boy departed.
What it all meant I could not guess.
Just then I heard a key in the lock, and Kennedy came in.
"Is your name Bruce?" I asked.
"Why?" he replied eagerly. "Has anything come?"
I pointed to the package. Kennedy made a dive for it and
unwrapped it.
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