RUDOLPH. I? Well, what is there to think?
DETECTIVE. What reason could he have for setting fire to another person's house?
RUDOLPH. I don't know. Malice, or mere mischief—you never can tell what people may do—Or perhaps there was something he wanted to cover up.
DETECTIVE. That would have been a poor way, as old rottenness always will out. Did he have any grudge against you?
RUDOLPH. It's likely, for I helped him once when he was hard up, and he has hated me ever since, of course.
DETECTIVE. Of course? [Pause] Who is he, then?
RUDOLPH. He was raised in an orphanage—born of unknown parents.
DETECTIVE. Haven't you a grown-up daughter, Mr. Walström?
RUDOLPH. [Angered] Of course I have!
DETECTIVE. Oh, you have! [Pause; then to ERICSON] Now you bring those twelve men of yours and pull down the walls quick. Then we'll see what new things come to light.