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leave at a moment's notice.'
    'I'll be there.'
    We drove to the club in silence. As soon as I parked the car, she got out and gave me a meaningless, automatic smile as she said, 'The night after next then, at six.'
    I watched her walk towards the clubhouse; a graceful, lovely figure in the gold dress; diamonds sparkling in her hair; fear and jealousy in her heart.

II

    I toiled up the stone steps leading to Mifflin's small office on the fourth floor of Police Headquarters' building.
    Mifflin was staring out of the window, his hat over his eyes, the stub of a cigarette stuck on his lower lip. He had a brooding, dismal look on his red face and his eyes showed the energy of his thoughts.
    'You,' he said gloomily as I pushed open the door and edged my way into the small office. 'Funny thing, I was thinking about you. Come in, and park. I'm out of cigarettes, so don't ask me for one.'
    I pulled up a hard, straight-backed chair, sat astride it, and folded my arms along the back of it.
    'How's the kidnapping going?'
    'Awful,' he said, and sighed. 'Nothing to work on, and Brandon's going around like a fiend. He reckons someone will make him Chief of Police if he catches the kidnappers.'
    I searched in my coat pocket, fished out a package of cigarettes, offered him one.
    We lit up and brooded at each other.
    'Anything on the Jerome dame?'
    Mifflin sighed.
    'Have you come in here just to pick my brains?'
    "No; nothing like that. I came here to swop some information.'
    Mifflin's face lit up and he gave me a quick, searching look.
    "You got anything?'
    'Not much. It's confidential. Last night, Mrs. Dedrick called me up. You can guess what she wanted.'
    'She's got the ransom demand, and you're to deliver the dough, is that it?'
    I nodded.
    'She doesn't want the police to know.'
    'She wouldn't,' Mifflin said, bitterly; 'but she expects us to get her husband back. When?'
    'Tomorrow night. They'll call her and give her final instructions.'
    'Brandon will have to be told.'
    I shrugged.
    'That's up to you. There's nothing he can do about it, unless he moves in and grabs the guy who collects. If he does, he'll kill Dedrick as if he shot him himself.'
    'It's my bet, Dedrick's dead already.'
    'Maybe, but we don't know for sure.'
    'Well. I'll have to tell him.'
    'So long as he doesn't let Mrs. Dedrick know I've been here. What will you do - tap the telephone wire?'
    'Could do,' Mifflin said, closed his eyes and frowned. 'If that woman doesn't want us in this, the chances are Brandon won't do anything. He's scared to make a wrong move with her. Once the ransom's paid, our troubles will be over. The Federal Bureau will take charge.'
    'Getting back to Mary Jerome; anything or nothing?' 'Brandon's leaving her alone, but I've traced her car. A patrolman spotted her coming from Ocean End and got the number. He's one of those freaks who remembers car numbers. He shoved in a report when he heard about the kidnapping. She rented the car from the Acme Garage. Maybe you know the joint. It's run by a guy named Lute Ferris. We've had our eye on him off and on for smuggling reefers, but have never pinned anything on him. He was in Los Angeles when I called, but I talked with his wife. She remembers this Jerome dame. She arrived the night before last - the night of the kidnapping - around eight o'clock and asked Lute for a car. She paid fifty dollars deposit and said she needed the car for a couple of days. She gave the Orchid Hotel as her address.'
    'Trusting of Ferris to let her have a car without checking on her first, wasn't it?' Why should he care? The car's insured. Anyway, that's the story, and we're stuck with it.'
    'You've checked the airport and the station to see if she came from out-of-town?'
    'Yeah, we've done that, but can't get a line on her.'
    'And that's as far as you've got?'
    'That's as far as we'll ever get,' Mifflin said, stubbing out his cigarette. 'A kidnapping case is the worst kind of case you can get. If they knock off the guy who's