“You admit this!”
“Why not? It’d be found out anyway, and, as I didn’t have anything to do with the shooting, I don’t see why I don’t get my fur back. It’s an awful nice little collar.”
“You’ll get it back, Miss Hayes; and now, instead of waiting for a police detective to interview you, suppose you tell me all you know about the matter.”
“I don’t know much, but what I have is yours. I went round there, that afternoon, on—an errand.”
“What was the errand? You may as well tell as to have me drag it out of you.”
“That’s so. Well, our old gentleman friend said he’d give a party for me and a few friends. Oh, a nice, proper supper party—after the theater some night. I’m in the chorus now. Used to be in the movies. Anyway, he promised and promised, and never set the time. So I telephoned and telephoned and I couldn’t get him to make a date, so I just went round there to try and persuade him.”
“Did you see him?”
“Sure I did.”
“Did he make the date?”
“No; the old fourflusher! He crawled out of it, and said if I’d let him off he’d give me a nice present. Said he’d take me to any jewelry shop I chose, to pick it out. Said he’d take me the next day. Now, you don’t suppose I’d croak a guy that was about to give me a bracelet, do you?”