“They have disappeared,—not an uncommon procedure,” returned the doctor, dryly. “And they have taken with them the weapon with which the crime was committed, thus removing a most important clue! Have you any suspicion—in any direction?”
Doctor Pagett shot this query at her with such sharp suddenness that Miss Prall almost jumped.
“I!” she exclaimed loudly. “How could I know anything about this man or his women? He’s nothing to me!”
“He is your nephew’s uncle.”
“Well, that makes him no kin of mine, does it? Don’t you dare mix me up in this thing!”
“Nobody’s mixing you up in it, ma’am,” and, indifferently, the physician returned his attention to the dead man, and became engrossed in studying the writing on the paper.
And then, as three men from Police Headquarters appeared at the front end of the long lobby, Eliza Gurney stepped from the elevator at the other end. Apparently she was holding herself well in hand, for, though her face was white and drawn with fear, her firm set lips and clenched hands betokened a resolve not to give way to nerves in any fashion.
“Let me see him,” she said, in steady tones.
“Who are you, madam?” said Officer Kelsey, resenting her determined push forward.
“I’m Miss Gurney, the companion of Miss Prall,” and the air with which she made the announcement would have fitted a grand duchess.