Parker gaped.
“They got the killer? Then you didn’t do it?”
“Of course not, you dope!”
“Oh! Well, I don’t want anything more to do with you. You’re a damned dangerous influence. You’ve ruined my home.”
Ken asked the question that had been torturing him for the past few hours: “Did you tell your wife I went to see Fay?”
“Tell her?” Parker’s voice shot up. “Of course not! You don’t think I’d tell her I gave you an introduction to a tart, do you? It’s bad enough now, but she would never have forgiven me.”
Ken drew in a deep breath of relief. He suddenly grinned, and clumped Parker on his back.
“Then this lets me out!” he said. “You’ll keep quiet about this to Ann, won’t you?”
Parker scowled at him.
“I don’t see why both of us should be in the soup. It’d serve you damn well right if I did tell her, but I won’t.”