The next morning I called Pangburn’s apartment before I got out of bed, and got no answer. Then I telephoned Axford and made an appointment for ten o’clock at his office.
“I don’t know what he’s up to now,” Axford said good-naturedly when I told him that Pangburn had apparently been away from his apartment since Sunday, “and I suppose there’s small chance of guessing. Our Burke is nothing if not erratic. How are you progressing with your search for the damsel in distress?”
“Far enough to convince me that she isn’t in a whole lot of distress. She got twenty thousand dollars from your brother-in-law the day before she vanished.”
“Twenty thousand dollars from Burke? She must be a wonderful girl! But wherever did he get that much money?”
“From you.”
Axford’s muscular body straightened in his chair.
“From me?”
“Yes—your check.”
“He did not.”
There was nothing argumentative in his voice; it simply stated a fact.
“You didn’t give him a check for twenty thousand dollars on the first of the month?”
“No.”