One other item of news Van Ingen secured; there had been a lady on the same errand as himself. "A foreign lady," said the good folks of Falmouth.
He had some two days to discover Eva Hyatt--this was her name.
He paced the room, his head sunk on his breast.
The telegram said "Come." It suggested some prearranged plan in which the girl had acquiesced; she was to leave Falmouth and go somewhere.
Suppose she had come to London, where would Catherine Dominguez have placed her? Near at hand; a thought struck Van Ingen. Smith had told him the tale of the deportation of the dancing girl. He would search her flat. He took down his overcoat and struggled into it, made a selection of keys from his pocket, and went out. It was a forlorn hope, but forlorn hopes had often been the runners of victory, and there was nothing to be lost by trying.
He came to the great hall of the mansion in Baker Street and asked the number of the dancer's flat.
"Evening, sir." Then, "I suppose you know the young lady hasn't come back yet?"
Van Ingen did know, but said nothing. The porter was in a talkative mood.
"She sent me a wire from Liverpool, saying that she'd been called away suddenly."
The young man nodded. He knew this, too, for T. B. had sent the wire.
"What the other young lady couldn't understand," continued the porter, and Van Ingen's heart gave a leap, "was, why----"
"Why she hadn't wired her, eh?" he asked. "Well, you see, she was so busy----"
"Of course!" The porter clucked his lips impatiently.
"She's upstairs in Miss Dominguez' flat at this moment. My word, she's been horribly worried----"
"I'll go up and see her. As a matter of fact, I've come here for the purpose," said Van Ingen quickly.
He took the lift to the second floor, and walked along the corridor. He reached No. 43 and his hand was raised to press the little electric bell of the suite when the door opened quickly and a girl stepped out. She gave a startled cry as she saw the stranger, and drew back.
"I beg your pardon," said Van Ingen, with a pleasant smile. "I'm afraid I startled you."
She was a big florid girl with a certain awkwardness of movement.
"Well-dressed but _gauche_," thought Van Ingen. "Provincial! she'll talk."
"I was a little startled," she said, with a ready smile. "I thought it was the postman."