They
have taken some very valuable papers of mine.
"Secret service--rummage baggage?" repeated Burke, himself now in
perplexity. "That is news to me. We have rummaged no trunks or
bags, least of all Nordheim's. In fact, we have never been able to
find them at all."
"Upstairs, Burke--the servants' quarters," interrupted Craig
impatiently. "We are wasting time here."
Mrs. Brainard offered no protest. I began to think that the whole
thing was indeed a surprise to her, and that she had, in fact,
been reading, instead of making a studied effort to appear
surprised at our intrusion.
Room after room was flung open without finding any one, until we
reached the attic, which had been finished off into several rooms.
One door was closed. Craig opened it cautiously. It was pitch dark
in spite of the broad daylight outside. We entered gingerly.
On the floor lay two dark piles of something. My foot touched one
of them. I drew back in horror at the feeling. It was the body of
a man.
Kennedy struck a light, and as he bent over in its little circle
of radiance, he disclosed a ghastly scene.
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