CHAPTER VI.

Mrs. John Jones.

Nothing of great importance occurred in the case until the next afternoon when Nick was at Police Headquarters.

He was talking with Superintendent Byrnes.

“The identification of that woman gets stronger all the time,” said the superintendent.  “I’m beginning to think that she is really the wife of our prisoner.”

“It looks so,” said Nick.

At that moment a card was brought in.  The superintendent looked at it and whistled softly.

Then he handed the card to Nick, who read the name.  The two men exchanged glances, and both smiled.

“Mrs. John Jones,” said Nick; “well, this puts a new face on the matter.”

“It’s a great case,” was the reply.  “I’m mighty glad you happened to be on the scene at once.”

He turned to the officer who had brought the card, and directed that Mrs. Jones should be admitted immediately.

A pretty young woman entered.  She was of about the same height as the unfortunate victim of the tragedy in the restaurant, and much like her in build.

The faces did not resemble each other in outline, but the coloring was similar.  There was a faint resemblance in the large, light blue eyes.

The hair was of the same peculiar shade, and nearly as luxuriant.  But nobody would ever have mistaken one woman for the other, after a fair look at their faces.

The costumes, however, were positively identical.  Mrs. John Jones, to all appearances, wore the very same clothes as Nick had seen upon the woman in room B.

Mrs. Jones was evidently very nervous, but she made a fine attempt to control herself.

“You have my husband under arrest, I believe,” she said.  “And he is accused, they say, of killing me.”

She tried to smile, but it was rather a ghastly effort.

The superintendent motioned the woman to a seat.

“Mr. John Jones is here,” he said, “and he is suspected of murder.”

“I have read about it,” replied the woman.  “There certainly appeared to be evidence against him, but of course you must be aware that I know him to be innocent.”

“How?”

“Because I was with him when the crime was committed.  At half-past seven o’clock of that evening we were walking toward the Grand Central Depot.

“We had dined in our flat.  The people who say they saw us go out tell the truth.

“But we came back.  It was my intention to take an afternoon train, but I decided to wait.

“So we came back and had dinner.  Nobody saw us go in or out of the flat.

“After dinner we walked to the depot, and I took the eight-ten train for my home in Maysville, ten miles from Albany.

“I arrived in Albany Wednesday morning, and remained there with friends throughout the day and night.  Then I went to Maysville, where I heard the news, and came back at once.”