The maid shook her head. "I was always straightening up the drawers in both her dressing-table and her desk, and she didn't keep the jewelry in either one of them places."
"Captain Strawn, when you searched the dressing-table and desk for the gun or anything of importance, did you have any reason to suspect a secret drawer in either of them?"
"No, Bonnie. They're just ordinary factory furniture. I tapped around for a secret drawer, of course, but there wasn't even any place for one," Strawn assured him with an indulgent grin.
"I want to see Penny Crain!" Dundee cried, making for the door.
"Then you'd better come along to the courthouse with me," Sanderson called after him. "I sent her back to the office as soon as the inquest was adjourned."
The two men passed through the now deserted morgue chapel and almost bumped into a middle-aged man, obviously of the laboring class in spite of his slicked-up, Sunday appearance.
"You're the district attorney, ain't you, sir?" he addressed Sanderson in a nervous, halting undertone.
"Yes. What is it?"
"I come to the inquest to give some information, sir, but it was adjourned so quick I didn't have time—"
"Who are you?" Sanderson interrupted impatiently.