The head waiter, a witness of the affair, ordered Gordon put out, but did not request Shirley or Stella to leave, because the other man had been the aggressor without any question.  After more than an hour Gordon returned, quietly and unobtrusively, with another girl.  From Belle’s description I knew it was Marilyn Loring.  Taking another table, Marilyn had stared at Shirley reproachfully while Gordon had glared at Stella.

Shirley put up with this for just about so long.  As Belle described it, his face gradually became more and more red and he controlled himself with increasing difficulty.  Stella, seeing the coming of the storm, tried to get him to go.  He refused.  She threatened to leave him.  He paid no attention.  All at once he boiled over and with great strides walked over to Gordon and mauled him all over the place.  The leading man had no chance whatever in the hands of the irate Westerner.  Several waiters, attempting to intervene, were flung aside.  Only when Shirley began to cool off were they able to eject the two men.  Both Stella and Marilyn had left, separately, before that.  Neither of the men or women had been at the Fads since, or at least the head waiter, called over by Belle, so informed us.

Unable to obtain any other facts of interest, I returned finally to the apartment shared by Kennedy and myself.  First he listened to my account, plainly interested.  Then, when I had concluded, he rose and faced me rather gravely.

“It’s getting more and more complicated, Walter,” he exclaimed.  “After you left I remembered that there was one point of investigation I had failed to cover—­Miss Lamar’s home here in the city.  I got our old friend, First-Deputy O’Connor, on the wire and learned that at the request of Mackay, from Tarrytown, they had sent a man up to the place and that just an hour or less before I called they had located and were holding her colored maid.  I hurried down to headquarters and questioned the girl.”

“Yes?” To me it sounded promising.

“The negress didn’t know a thing so far as the crime is concerned,” Kennedy went on, “but I gained quite an insight into the private life of the star.”

“You mean—­”

“I mean I know the men who went to Miss Lamar’s apartment, although beyond the fact of her receiving them I can tell nothing, for she sent the maid home at night; there were no maid’s quarters.”

“Their visits may have been perfectly innocent?”

“Of course!  We can only draw conclusions.”

“Who were the various callers?”

“Jack Gordon—­”

“Her fiance!”

“Merle Shirley—­”

“Shirley admitted it when you questioned him.”

“Manton—­”

“Everyone knows that!”

“Werner—­” A side glance at me.

I said nothing.  My expression spoke for me.

“And Emery Phelps!”

At that I did show surprise.  Although Mackay had hinted at something of the kind, I, for one, had not considered the banker seriously.