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He used his pass from the Navy Secretary to reenter the Gun Factory, opened the Polhener’s desk A stack of special hand-laid stock that Langner apparently reserved for important correspondence matched the paper on which the suicide note ritten Beside it was a Waterman fountain pen

Bell pocketed the pen, and stopped at the chemist’s laboratory where Van Dorn maintained an account Then he took a streetcar up Capitol Hill to Lincoln Park, a neighborhood that was flourishing as Washingtonians ested swampy areas around the Potomac River, which turned foul in the summer heat

Bell found the Langner home directly across the street from the park It was a two-story bric

k row house with green shutters and a wrought-iron fence around a s Arthur Langner’s financial affairs had uncovered no evidence of a private inconer would have had to purchase this new house on his Gun Factory salary, which, the auditor had noted, equaled that of top ers in private industry

The house looked newly built-as did all but a handful of old wooden structures on the side streets-and boasted tall s The brickas typically ornate, flaring skyward to an elaborate dentated cornice But inside, Bell noted in a glance, the house was anything but typical It was decorated in a spare, modern manner, with built-in cabinets and bookshelves, electric la fans The furniture was up-to-date, too, and very expensive-airy yet strong pieces ian Charles Rennie Mackintosh Where, Bell had to ask, did Langner get the money to pay for Mackintosh furniture?

Dorothy was no longer dressed in black but in a silvery gray color that complemented her eyes and her raven hair A man trailed her into the foyer She introduced him as “My friend Ted Whitmark”

Bell pegged Whitmark as a hail-felloell-met salesht smile on his handsome face, an expensive suit of clothes, and a crinia

“More than a friend, I’d say,” Whitrip “Closer to a fiancé, if you get rip emphatically

“Congratulations,” said Bell, squeezing back

Whito with an easy smile, and joked, “That’s some shake What do you do in your spare time, shoe horses?”

“Would you excuse us for a ner, Mr Van Dorn asked me to have a ith you”

“We have no secrets here,” said Whitmark “At least, none that are any business of a detective”

“That’s all right, Ted,” said Dorothy, laying a hand on his arin in the kitchen Why not mix us cocktails while Mr Bell reports?”

Ted Whitmark didn’t like it but he had no choice but to exit, which he did with a grave “Don’t be keeping her too long, Bell The poor girl is still recovering from the shock of her father’s death”

“This will just take a minute,” Bell assured him