Nick looked shrewdly at his youthful assistant. He is very fond of this bright boy, and gives him every chance to develop his theories in those cases in which he is employed.
"Come, my lad," said the famous detective, "tell me what has set you against Gaspard."
"He's going to skip."
"Is that so? Well, this is serious."
"It's a fact. I got it from one of the men in the restaurant. My man was told of it by Corbut."
"Corbut?"
"Yes; and there's another suspicious circumstance. There's a Frenchwoman who is going to give little old New York the shake at the same time as Gaspard. They're going back to sunny France together.
"Now, nobody knows this but the man I talked with. Gaspard thinks that Corbut was the only one who knew it.
"So it was for Gaspard's interest, in case he really did this job, and lifted some valuable plunder off that woman, to get Corbut out of the way.
"Did he pay Corbut to skip first? And is he now identifying Tom, Dick and Harry for the purpose of bothering us and keeping us busy till he can light out?"
"It's worth looking into," said Nick. "At any rate, you stick to Gaspard. I'll put somebody else onto Hammond."
CHAPTER VI.
MRS. JOHN JONES.
Nothing of great importance occurred in the case until the next afternoon when Nick was at Police Headquarters.
He was talking with Superintendent Byrnes.
"The identification of that woman gets stronger all the time," said the superintendent. "I'm beginning to think that she is really the wife of our prisoner."
"It looks so," said Nick.
At that moment a card was brought in. The superintendent looked at it and whistled softly.
Then he handed the card to Nick, who read the name. The two men exchanged glances, and both smiled.
"Mrs. John Jones," said Nick; "well, this puts a new face on the matter."
"It's a great case," was the reply. "I'm mighty glad you happened to be on the scene at once."
He turned to the officer who had brought the card, and directed that Mrs. Jones should be admitted immediately.
A pretty young woman entered. She was of about the same height as the unfortunate victim of the tragedy in the restaurant, and much like her in build.
The faces did not resemble each other in outline, but the coloring was similar. There was a faint resemblance in the large, light blue eyes.
The hair was of the same peculiar shade, and nearly as luxuriant. But nobody would ever have mistaken one woman for the other, after a fair look at their faces.
The costumes, however, were positively identical. Mrs. John Jones, to all appearances, wore the very same clothes as Nick had seen upon the woman in room B.
Mrs. Jones was evidently very nervous, but she made a fine attempt to control herself.
"You have my husband under arrest, I believe," she said. "And he is accused, they say, of killing me."
She tried to smile, but it was rather a ghastly effort.
The superintendent motioned the woman to a seat.
"Mr. John Jones is here," he said, "and he is suspected of murder."
"I have read about it," replied the woman. "There certainly appeared to be evidence against him, but of course you must be aware that I know him to be innocent."
"How?"
"Because I was with him when the crime was committed. At half-past seven o'clock of that evening we were walking toward the Grand Central Depot.
"We had dined in our flat. The people who say they saw us go out tell the truth.
"But we came back. It was my intention to take an afternoon train, but I decided to wait.
"So we came back and had dinner. Nobody saw us go in or out of the flat.
"After dinner we walked to the depot, and I took the eight-ten train for my home in Maysville, ten miles from Albany.
"I arrived in Albany Wednesday morning, and remained there with friends throughout the day and night. Then I went to Maysville, where I heard the news, and came back at once."
The superintendent touched his bell. Two minutes later John Jones was brought into the room.
"Amy!" exclaimed he. "How came you here?"
He ran up to her, and they greeted each other affectionately. The woman, who had controlled herself up to this point, burst into tears.
Jones turned in wrath toward Nick.
"Haven't we had enough of this infernal nonsense?" he exclaimed. "You have raised the devil with my business and scared my wife into a fit.
Now let me out, and arrest the Ameer of Afghanistan. He had more to do with this affair than I did."
Nick did not reply, but he made a secret sign to the superintendent.
"You are at liberty, Mr. Jones," said Byrnes, calmly. "I regret that it was necessary to detain you so long."
"I have no complaint to make against you," said Jones. "It was that man's work, and he shall pay for it."
He scowled at Nick, and then, after bowing to the superintendent, walked out of the room with his wife on his arm.