He was surprised at the presence of the Assistant District Attorney and the detective, but as he noted their reception of himself he was even more surprised. For they did not regard him as hostilely as usual, and he immediately concluded they were on another track.
But conversation was a bit constrained, and finally Barry blurted out:
“What’s the idea? Why are you all sitting here as if looking for something or somebody?”
“We are,” and Belknap looked grave. “We are waiting for Miss Lindsay to reappear.”
“What about her?” Barry asked, suddenly alert.
“We want her to answer a few questions.” Belknap kept a wary eye on the artist, for he was becoming more and more convinced that the secret of the murder was in the keeping of the two. His theory strengthened in his mind every moment and he wished Phyllis would come. Yet, something might be gained from Barry in the meantime.
“Were you in a taxicab with Miss Lindsay on the day of Mr Gleason’s death?” Belknap sprang suddenly.
“What do you mean?” cried Barry, angrily. “Of course I wasn’t.”
“Who was, then?”
“I don’t know, I’m sure. I don’t know that anybody was.”