"Step on that bell, Mrs. Dunlap--_just as you did before_!"
As if hypnotized, Lois Dunlap began to grope with the toe of her right
pump for the slight bulge under the rug which indicated the position of
the bell used for summoning the maid from the kitchen.
With a strangled cry Tracey Miles lunged across the few feet which
separated the woman and himself, seized her arm and whirled her
violently away from the table.
"_Do you want to kill my wife, too?_" he panted, his usually florid face
the color of putty. "You--_you_--!"
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
"That would be impossible, Miles," Dundee said deliberately. "_For your
wife is already dead!_" Then his clear words rang out like the knell of
doom:
"Tracey Arthur Miles, I arrest you for the murder of your wife, known as
Juanita Leigh Selim, and for the murder of Dexter Sprague. And it is my
duty to warn you that anything you say may be used against you."
Tracey Miles lifted his ashen face and stared at the detective blankly,
as though he had gone deaf and blind. "All--over--isn't it? May I--have
a--drink?" he managed to articulate at last.
"Poor devil! He needs it," the too-soft-hearted young detective told
himself, as Miles poured a drink from the almost empty whiskey decanter
and raised the little glass to his lips.
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