“In fact,” and Bates looked very sober, “in fact, Gibbs, I’d rather you’d suspect my aunt than the Everett crowd!”
“But nobody has voiced any suspicion of the Everett crowd——”
“You don’t have to voice it, for me to know what you have in your mind——”
“And that Kate Holland is a terrible woman——” began Julie.
Richard silenced her with a look.
“Julie,” he said, sternly, “don’t you dare mention one word of Kate Holland in connection with this matter! If you do, I’ll tell both Moore and the house management of your Chinatown trip.”
“That’s right,” agreed Gibbs. “You’re not to mix into this thing in any way, Julie. You run along now, and remember, it’s just as Mr Bates said; if you breathe a word of anything you’ve heard or said in here with us, we’ll show you up good and plenty, and we may do a little exaggerating, too! Is it a bargain?”
“Yes, sir, it is!” and Julie Baxter went out of the room, glad to be assured of the safety of her own secret.
“Now, Bates, you may as well face the music,” Gibbs began. “You must know that in the back of everybody’s head has been an unspoken thought of higher up people than chorus girls or elevator attendants. Those youngsters don’t commit murder,—such a thing is unknown. But older women with deeper motives must be considered. You say you want to find the murderess in order to relieve your aunt from any hint of suspicion. Do you want to do so if the trail leads toward the Everett household?”
Richard Bates seemed suddenly to have grown years older. His good-looking young face turned to an ashen hue, and his eyes were wild and staring.