“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Grace Lane, sir,” she told him.

“Run the elevator, eh?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Kirk had sent word that one of us must work overtime tonight. On account of the party.”

“How many people have you brought up since the close of business?”

“I didn’t keep count. Quite a few - ladies and gentlemen - Mr. Kirk’s guests, of course.”

“Don’t remember anybody who looked like an outsider?”

“No, sir.”

“This is a big building,” said Flannery. “There must have been others working here tonight besides this fellow Smith. Remember anybody?”

The girl hesitated. “There - there was one other, sir.”

“Yes? Who was that?”

“A girl who is employed in the office of the Calcutta Importers, on this floor. Her name is Miss Lila Barr.”

“Working here tonight, eh? On this floor. She’s not here now?”

“No, sir. She left some time ago.”

“How long ago?”

“I can’t say exactly, sir. Half an hour - perhaps a little more than that.”

“Humph.” The Captain took down their names and addresses, and dismissed them. As they went out, the two patrolmen entered from the fire-escape, and, leaving them in charge, Flannery asked to be directed upstairs.

The dinner guests were sitting with rather weary patience in a semicircle in the living-room. Into their midst strode the Captain, with an air of confidence he was far from feeling. He stood looking them over.

“I guess you know what I’m doing here,” he said. “Miss Morrow tells me she’s had a talk with you, and I won’t double back over her tracks. However, I want the name and address of every one of you.” He turned to Mrs. Kirk. “I’ll start with you.”

She stiffened at his tone. “You’re very flattering, I’m sure. I am Mrs. Dawson Kirk.” She added her address.

“You.” Flannery turned to the explorer.

“Colonel John Beetham. I am a visitor in the city, stopping at the Fairmont.”

Flannery went on down the list. When he had finished, he added:

“Any one got any light to throw on this affair? If you have, better give it to me now. Things’ll be a lot pleasanter all round than if I dig it up for myself later.” No one spoke. “Some lady saw a man running down the fire-escape,” he prompted.

“Oh - I did,” said Eileen Enderby. “I’ve been all over that with Miss Morrow. I had gone out into the garden-” Again she related her experience.

“What’d this man look like?” demanded Flannery.

“I couldn’t say. A very dim figure in the fog.”

“All right.