CHAPTER XII
CHINESE CHARLEY
Chinese Charley was proving a puzzle to the police.
As his wages were paid to the end of the month, his notion of duty kept him at his post until the expiration of that time. Then, he explained, he would go away and get another place—unless he had different orders from Mr. Locke in the meantime.
“You are in touch with him, Charley!” Hutchins accused him.
“Touch?” said the Chinese, blankly.
“You hear from him. He writes you? Telephones you?”
“No,” said Charley.
But Hutchins believed he lied.
Since the caretaker was there, however, Glenn continued to stay in the studio apartment day and night. This would continue until the end of the month; then, if Locke had not been heard from, the house agent said he should lock up the place until the paid-up rent had expired and then rent it to some one else.
So matters seemed to be shaping themselves to a general permanent arrangement of forgetting Tommy Locke.
Yet there was nothing else to do. Hunt was being made, search was being kept up, yet there was no sign of the missing man, except the vague reports of his telephoning his servant and friends. Nor could these be verified.
Henry Post declared he had not heard from Locke.
