“H’m,” grunted Burdon. “Well, sir, I can promise not to trouble the ladies more than is necessary—but I can’t help feeling necessity will demand a great deal.”
Mrs. Wheeler was next interviewed, and the confab took place in her own sitting-room.
None of her family was allowed to be present, and the four men filed into the room with various expressions of face. The two detectives were stolid-looking, but eagerly determined to do their work, while Allen and Keefe were alertly interested in finding out some way to be of help to Mrs. Wheeler.
She received the men quietly, even graciously, sensing what they had come for.
“To start with, Mrs. Wheeler,” said Burdon, frankly but not unkindly, “who do you think killed Mr. Appleby?”
“Oh—I don’t know—I don’t know,” she wailed, losing her calm and becoming greatly agitated.
“Where were you when the shot was fired?” asked Hallen.
“I don’t know—I didn’t hear it——”
“Then you were up in your own room?”
“I suppose so—I don’t know.”