"'Come, come, now,' Chase said, 'what's the use of that? You might tell that to Doyle—but why tell me? Where was she?'
"You see, they're all trying to put it over on me," interjected Doyle, apoplectically.
"She might have been out—and still not have been near Mr. Wilford or his office," I returned.
Doyle gave me a withering glance and did not even deign to reply to a mere reporter.
"Here's the other thing, Kennedy," ignored Doyle. "I mean about trying to put it on Vina Lathrop—to save Mrs. Wilford.
"'Wasn't she at Mr. Wilford's office?' That's a return question from Celeste to Chase to divert attention, I tell you."
"What was Chase's answer?"
Doyle ran his eye down the page. "'I've traced pretty nearly everything Mrs. Lathrop did that night—except for a couple of hours after she left the Gorham Hotel, where she had dinner. If I could locate the driver of the cab that took her away, I'd get a clue. But it was a passing taxi the doorman hailed, and there doesn't seem to be any trace of him—yet.' There—don't you see? They're trying to get something on Mrs. Lathrop. It's plain. I ask you—why?"
Doyle leaned back and regarded us with an air of conscious triumph.
"Cost what it will," he added, "it's apparent that Celeste is devoted and loyal to Honora Wilford, too. I tell you they're covering up something," he emphasized, waving the notes, "and I intend to uncover it."