Page:Miss Madelyn Mack Detective.pdf/100

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The Missing Bridegroom
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ries. Even her hair, about whose arrangement she generally was precise to the point of nervousness, was dishevelled, and once, when Peter the Great thrust his nose into her lap, she ordered him impatiently away.

The Van Suttons had hardly seated themselves when there was a step in the hall and the last guest of the afternoon made his appearance. There was not the slightest hint of ill humor in Madelyn's greeting as Detective Wiley somewhat awkwardly took the hand that she extended to him.

"Have you traced the murderer yet, Mr. Wiley?"

"No, but I expect to have him in custody within the next twenty-four hours!" Detective Wiley dropped heavily into his chair and crossed his knees.

"May I ask if you have found the body?"

"I can't say that we have, but we have certain information which—"

Madelyn walked over to the end of the room where she could face the entire group. She was the only one of us who was standing.

"Then I am more fortunate than you are!"

The detective bounded from his seat, his sandy moustache—the barometer of his emotions—bristling. "I am not a man to trifle with, Miss Mack. Do you mean to tell me—"

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