“I shouldn’t think he would! Why, it was a fearful night. I was going to the movies, but I couldn’t think of going out in that wild gale! But never mind Mr. Manning now, let’s talk about the Gately affair. I want to go over there and look around the office. Do you suppose they’d let me?”
“Why, I expect so. Is anybody there now?”
“Yes, a police detective,—that man, Hudson. You know they call him Foxy Jim Hudson, and I suppose he’s finding out a lot of stuff that isn’t so!”
“You haven’t a very high opinion of our arms of the law.”
“Oh, they’re all right,—but most detectives can’t see what’s right under their noses!”
“Not omniscient Sherlocks, are they? And you think you could do a lot of smarty-cat deduction?”
Norah didn’t resent my teasing, but her gray eyes were very earnest as she said, “I wish I could try. A woman was in that room yesterday afternoon; someone besides Miss Raynor and the old lady Driggs.”
“How do you know?”
“Take me over there and I’ll show you. They’ll let me in, with you to back me.”
We went across and the officer made no objections to our entrance. In fact, he seemed rather glad of someone to talk to.