"She IS stunning," he agreed simply. "Half the younger set are
crazy over her."
The buzzer on his door recalled us to the case in hand.
One of our visitors was a sandy-haired, red-mustached, stocky man,
with everything but the name detective written on him from his
face to his mannerisms.
He was accompanied by an athletically inclined, fresh-faced young
fellow, whose clothes proclaimed him to be practically the last
word in imported goods from London.
I was not surprised at reading the name of James McBirney on the
detective's card, underneath which was the title of the Automobile
Underwriters' Association. But I was more than surprised when the
younger of the visitors handed us a card with the simple name,
Mortimer Warrington.
For, Mortimer Warrington, I may say, was at that time one of the
celebrities of the city, at least as far as the newspapers were
concerned. He was one of the richest young men in the country, and
good for a "story" almost every day.
Warrington was not exactly a wild youth, in spite of the fact that
his name appeared so frequently in the headlines.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25