ALM06 Who Killed the Husband? by Hulbert Footner Page A

offices were on the top floor of the skyscraper. Lee, whose first visit it was, looked around him appreciatively; he enjoyed quality wherever he found it. Here, the lofty ceilings, the walls paneled with rare woods, the thick-piled rugs caressing the feet, expressed the highest quality without any suggestion of showiness. And space, plenty of space, the greatest luxury of all. This was a thoroughly modern office. The handsome young clerks and the beautiful secretaries moved through the rooms smiling, stopping to converse with each other cheerfully in order to show that there was no slave-driving here. Lee was particularly struck with the charming manners of the lovely receptionist at her desk. She smiled at him confidently as one nice person to another.
    "You wish to see Mr. Coler? Have you an appointment, sir?"
    Lee was obliged to confess that he had not.
    Her face fell. "Oh, I'm so sorry! It is difficult to arrange a meeting on the spur of the moment. But I'll see what I can do. 'What name, sir?"
    "Mr. Mappin. Amos Lee Mappin."
    Her eyes widened. "Mr. Mappin! Oh, sir, I know Mr. Coler will want to see you. Please be seated for a moment." She swam away.
    In no time at all she returned. "Mr. Coler will be delighted to see you, Mr. Mappin. Please come this way."
    Lee was led through one magnificent room after another, where smiling employees worked at their desks or conversed happily together. "This cannot be a bank," said Lee to his beautiful conductress; "it is more like Heaven!"
    She giggled politely, but it was evident she did not quite get it. Arriving at last at the holy of holies, the corner office, she announced: "Mr. Mappin," and disappeared. The door was ostentatiously left open.
    Lee received an impression of an acre of rare Kermanshah rug, tulip wood panels, a beamed, polychrome ceiling. From behind a gigantic desk with a whole brigade of telephones on it, George Coler was rising to greet him. Coler was in perfect keeping with the rich, conservative apartment; well groomed, handsome, smiling and natural; indubitably one of Wall Street's aristocrats.
    "Mr. Mappin! This is an unexpected pleasure!"
    "Sorry, if I'm interrupting you," said Lee.
    "Not at all! I am always at your service. Sit down, sir!"
    "Thanks," said Lee dryly. "I am a little overwhelmed." He took in all the details of the room.
    Coler laughed pleasantly. "Silly, isn't it?" he said, waving his hand about. "But, of course, a bit of swank is expected of Hasbroucks."
    "I like swank," said Lee.
    A shadow passed over Coler's face. "I have been promoted to the highest seat here," he said. "But how gladly I would give it up if I could have my friend back!"
    "I feel for you," said Lee.
    "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" asked Coler.
    "You have read this morning's paper, I take it," said Lee.
    A frown distorted Coler's handsome face; he struck his fist on the desk. "I have!" he cried, "and it is disgraceful that such a thing could happen! And I looked on the fellow as my friend, Mr. Mappin. I've been seeing a lot of him lately. His impudence passes all bearing!"
    "Oh, you have got the wrong impression," said Lee. "Yohe's manners were most agreeable. I quite enjoyed his visit."
    Coler wouldn't have it. "Disgraceful!" he repeated. "That a murderer should be able to thumb his nose at decent folk like that. What is the matter with our police?"
    "Obviously, somebody is concealing Yohe," said Lee. "The police are up against it."
    "If I was at the head of the force I would get something done!"
    "Naturally, Yohe's visit to me was a kind of challenge," Lee went on, "and I have engaged myself to help the police in this case."
    "Good!" cried Coler. "Then we'll get results. How can I help you, Mr. Mappin?"
    "Mr. Coler," Lee said blandly, "the rumor persists that it is Mrs. Gartrey who is keeping him hidden."
    Coler leaned toward Lee. "Mappin, there is nothing in it! I am with her part of every day--she depends on me for everything, you see, and I know what I am