And, clinging to these
drapes, the faint but unmistakable odor of cigarette smoke. Finally,
with a low cry of triumph, Bonnie Dundee flung back the colored linen
spread which covered the three-quarter bed and discovered that the
sheets and pillow cases, though clean, had, beyond the shadow of a
doubt, been slept upon.
Bending so that his nose almost touched a pillow case he sniffed.
_Pomade!..._ Who was the man who had slept in this bed last night?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
With the thrill of his discovery singing blithely along his nerves,
Bonnie Dundee, Special Investigator for the District Attorney, had at
first hugged the intention of following the new trail alone. Hadn't
Captain Strawn taunted him not too good-naturedly about his ability to
get along without the younger man's help?
But he was glad, both selfishly and unselfishly, when, half an hour
later, he threw open the front door of dead Nita's house to the chief of
the Homicide Squad, Carraway, the fingerprint expert, and the two
plainclothesmen who had searched the top floor for the missing weapon or
the murderer himself soon after the murder had been committed. For if
Strawn needed his help, Dundee needed the expert machinery which Strawn
captained. And it was good to feel the grip of gratitude in the old
chief's handclasp and to see the almost shy twinkle of apology in his
hard old grey eyes.
Pages:
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179