“Very well, excellency.  We transcribed the addresses of Warren’s gangsters from his note-book, and they have all been arrested.  The men we captured in the earlier skirmishes are all languishing in the tombs, as accomplices in his crime, as well as for their attempts against my own life.  You will be astonished, Helene, at the revelations of his operations as shown by his bank-books, a translation of that diary and some of the letters which I took when I burglarized his rooms.  I have sent a code letter to Phil, advising him to confess all, and that man’s testimony adds to the corroboration.  I went down to the District Attorney with a full statement of the facts, leaving nothing unbared.  Like me, he agreed that it were best to let the law take its course, demanding the full penalty, and saving the honor of a dozen families who would have been dragged into the case, had not Warren laid himself liable by the murder of his confederate, Taylor.  That young man was an electrical genius—­with his brains misguided by his equally misdirected employer.  There is no chance of a miscarriage of justice, and Warren had accumulated so much money that many of the victims of his organization can be reimbursed in full.”

“You have handled all this with a suspicious skill for a lazy society man, with no experience in such matters.”

Shirley understood the subtle sarcasm of the remark, but he proceeded unruffled, to lull her suspicious.

“I only tried to cover the points which meant happiness and peace of mind to others.  It was merely a matter of common or garden horse sense, as we call it in America.  Warren has been systematically robbing the rich men of New York for three years, under various subterfuges.  No wonder he could afford such gorgeous collections of art, keeping aloof from his associates in crime.  His treasures, like those in many European museums were bought with blood.  It is curious how a complex case like this smooths itself out so simply when the key is obtained.  And you, Helene, have been the genius to supply that key:  my own work has been merely corroborative!”

He looked at the delicate features of the girl, remembering with a recurring thrill the margin by which they had escaped death in the cellar den of the conspirators.

“Cleary and Dick Holloway told me how cleverly you led the men to the Somerset where you followed my trail through the mole’s passage.  It was a frightful risk for you to take:  Cleary should have had more sense and led the way himself.”

Helene’s lips pursed themselves into a tempting pout.

“Are you not happier that it was I, at that supreme moment?”

“Indeed I am:  success was all the sweeter.  There is remaining only one mystery which I must admit is still unsolved in this curious affair.  And that is you.  Who are you?”

She parried with the same question.

“I know your name, sir, but you profess to be a society butterfly, flitting from pleasure to dissipation, and back again.  Tell me the truth, now, if ever.”