"Like Rascon?"
Doyle nodded doubtfully. "I don't seem to know him," he remarked, sententiously, though in a tone that was prejudiced.
To Doyle all private detective agencies were as the scum of the earth. I know Kennedy made mental note to look the man up, unprejudiced.
"What do you know about him?" asked Craig.
"Very little—except that from what Celeste said Mrs. Wilford herself must have employed him at one time or another—perhaps even now. I guess that woman knew more about what was going on than we think."
I glanced from Doyle to Kennedy. Could it be possible that we ourselves, in turn, were being watched by her? And was Honora not the simple, unsophisticated woman I had thought?
"Evidently," went on Doyle, "Celeste was trying to fasten the crime on Vina Lathrop."
"How's that?" queried Kennedy, sharply.
"Well," returned Doyle, running his eye over the transcribed conversation to pick out that part which substantiated the statement, "it seems as though Celeste was trying to tell Chase something that Chase didn't accept. Here it is. Chase's remark was lost—but it must have been about Mrs. Wilford's actions that night of the murder.
"'No, no, no—she was not out of this apartment that night.' That was what Celeste said in answer to him.