Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/54

 "The Wimpel woman?"

"Not a trace of her so far!"

There was a moment's pause.

"And the other woman?" asked the man in the half-demolished make-up, "the woman called Maura?

The other man permitted himself the luxury of a smile.

"Has set up a miniature-painting studio on the other side of this block, as I first wired you. A showcase of 'em in the window! And not even a stab at secrecy!"

"And you say she's put in a telephone?"

"The wiring goes to the top of the house, across a couple of others, and from there rounds south to the street-main. I've traced it out. It can be reached from the roof of this building!"

"That's worth a mint to us," murmured the other. "And it hasn't been interfered with?"

"I left that expert work for you."

"Then the sooner we get a loop in that circuit the better!"

"You may be right, but, Kestner, I think your gang has flown the coop!"

It was Wilsnach who spoke, but not the shabby and self-effacing Wilsnach of the rue de la Paix. Instead, it was a dandified, edition-de-luxe Wilsnach as a tourist in peg-top trousers and pointed patent leathers, a Wilsnach with a waist line and a waxed imperial.

Kestner pulled off the iron-grey wig that had been making his head uncomfortably warm.

"I think you're wrong," he replied without