“You are very observant, Miss Adams.”
“Not so very. I took him in at a glance, and he impressed me as I have stated. I have a retentive memory, that’s all. I can see him now—as he bounded up the stairs.”
“In a merry mood?”
“I don’t know as to that. But the impression he gave me was more that of a man in haste. He tapped impatiently at the door of Mr Gleason’s apartment, and when it was not opened instantly, he rapped again.”
“And then Mr Gleason opened it?”
“Then somebody opened it. I couldn’t see who. The man went in quickly and the door was closed. That’s all I know about it.”
Miss Adams sat down then, and folded her hands in her lap. She was quite serene, and apparently not much interested in the matter.
A fleeting thought went through the detective’s mind that possibly Barry had interviewed her before and had persuaded or bribed her to say all this. But it seemed improbable.
Barry, too, was serene. He seemed satisfied at the turn events had taken, and appeared to think that Miss Adams’ decision had cleared him from suspicion.
Not so the detective.