“And do you know if Mr. Warren was expecting any visitor?”
“Not that I know of,” was her response. “In fact I doubt it very much.”
Though other questions were asked her, she knew nothing more of value. She did say the windows and the door were left open while they were working, but that Mr. Warren had them closed every evening. When she left the library the windows were all open and she could not account for any reason why they should be closed. Then, at our request, she went carefully over the room in an attempt to discover if anything had been disturbed. But when she had finished, she was forced to admit that nothing had been touched.
For a moment after she made this statement we stood silent, wondering just what our next move could be; and then came Bartley's voice:
“Miss Harlan, where did Mr. Warren keep his manuscript and the notes of his trip to China?”
She pointed to the large safe which stood near the door. As Bartley went over to look at it, I followed him. It was a rather large safe and, as I expected, it was locked. Bartley stood looking at it a moment, only to turn when the girl said:
“I know the combination, Mr. Bartley. Mr. Warren had me lock it every night. Also open it at times. He always used the same combination.”
At the chief's suggestion she came over to the safe and, bending down, fumbled for a moment or so with the lock. The first time she tried she did not get the right combination, but the next trial resulted in the door being opened. The interior of the safe was of the usual type, save for the fact that there seemed far more space than is usual. This open space at the lower half was filled with a mass of papers which no one disturbed. At Bartley's request after his short examination she closed the safe, giving him the combination which he wrote down in a little red note book.
We slowly returned to the center of the room, no one speaking. The girl's story had added little, if anything, to our knowledge. So far as we could tell nothing in the room had been disturbed or even touched. As to gaining any knowledge which would aid us in solving the mystery of Warren's death, we were in the same position as before. I think the chief was thinking this, for I saw him glance slowly around the room and then shake his head. And then Ranville's voice broke the silence.
“Miss Harlan, there is just one thing you might explain. You said that you were angry because Mr. Warren wished you to work until ten o'clock. Did you expect he was to be with you in the library?”