“Sure of the number?” he said, “I know Indianapolis pretty well.”
“I’m sure,” was the cool reply, and Trask went on.
“Know Doctor Waring before you came here?”
“No.”
“Never saw him before?”
“Never, to my knowledge.”
“You didn’t kill him?”
Anita only shook her head slowly, but Trask did not press her for a verbal answer.
“Yet you were there that night. Now, it’s useless to deny it, for the prints of those doodads on the back of that very frock you have on now were on the plush back of the chair you sat in. Young Lockwood smoothed them away—Lord knows why! He must suspect you, I should say, and tried to shield you that way.”
“Could he?” asked Miss Mystery, hopefully.