I closed the door on myself, thinking I could find the
light cord, but it was caught in one of the dresses or something, and it
took me a long time to find it in the dark of the closet, but I did find
it at last, and was just reading the note--"
"You _read_ it, even after you saw that the handwriting on the envelope
wasn't your husband's?" Dundee queried in assumed amazement.
Flora's thin body sagged. "I--I thought maybe Tracey had disguised his
Handwriting.... So I read it, and saw it was from Dexter--"
"Mr. Miles, do you know how some of your business stationery got into
Sprague's hands?"
"He's had plenty of opportunity to filch stationery or almost anything
he wants, hanging around my offices, as he does--an idler--"
But Dundee was in a hurry. He wheeled from the garrulity of the husband
to the tense terror of the wife.
"Mrs. Miles, I want you to tell me exactly what you know, unless you
prefer to consult a lawyer first--"
"Sir, if you are insinuating that _my wife_--"
"Oh, let me tell him, Tracey," Mrs. Miles capitulated suddenly,
completely. "I _was_ in the closet when Nita was killed, I suppose, but
I didn't _know_ she was being killed! _Because I was lying in there on
the closet floor in a dead faint!_"
Dundee stared at the woman incredulously, then suppressed a groan of
almost unbearable disappointment.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97