“I do realize that,” said Rob; “but to an interested observer it looks different. Why, if Mr. Carleton were the guilty man, he surely would not tell me so frankly the story of his interest in Miss Burt.”
This was certainly true, and Mr. Fairbanks agreed to it.
Rob had been obliged to tell the detective the facts of the case, though dilating as little as possible on Carleton’s private affairs.
“At any rate,” said Mr. Fairbanks, “we will not consider Mr. Carleton for the present, but turn toward the new trail, and it may lead us, at least, in the right direction. If Miss Dupuy is innocent, our investigations can do her no harm, and if she knows more than she has told, we may be able to learn something of importance. But she is of such a hysterical nature, it is difficult to hold a satisfactory conversation with her.”
“Perhaps it would be advisable for me to talk to her first,” said Rob. “I might put her more at her ease than a formidable detective could, and then I could report to you what I learn.”
“Yes,” agreed the other; “you could choose an expedient time, and, being in the same house, Miss French might help you.”
“She could secure an interview for me quite casually, I am sure. And then, if I don’t succeed, you can insist upon an official session, and question her definitely.”
“There are indications,” mused Mr. Fairbanks, “that accidental leaving of such a paper on the table is a little unlikely. If it were done purposely, it would be far easier to understand.”
“Yes, and, granting there is any ground for suspicion, all Miss Dupuy’s hysterics and disinclination to answer questions would be explained.”
“Well, I hate to suspect a woman,—but we won’t call it suspicion; we’ll call it simply inquiry. You do what you can to get a friendly interview, and, if necessary, I’ll insist on an official one later.”