He wandered back to the bed and sat down. “Then the quicker you get out of this room the better pleased I’ll be. I don’t want to be dragged into a murder rap.”
She said, between choking sobs: “I found him. He was lying on the floor. Someone had shot him.”
Fenner ran his fingers through his hair. “Who?” he said gently.
“Harry—Thayler, the man I was with.”
Fenner brooded. “Where is he?” he said at last.
Glorie took her hands away. Fenner experienced a little shock. She certainly wasn’t crying. She was play-acting. She said, “On his boat.”
“When did you find him?”
“Just before I came to you.”
Fenner rubbed his eyes. He got up and put his coat and hat on again. “Wait here,” he said. “I’m goin’ down to have a look at him.”
She said, “I’ll come with you.”