I said very distinctly and slowly, “It isn’t odd because Malloy happens to be my name.”
“I see.” He reached for the book and began to flip over the pages. “Then if you are not Edmund Seabright why are you here?”
“It’s a long story,” I said, and it seemed to me to be suddenly tremendously important to make this blond man believe me. If he didn’t, who else would? “I am a sort of private investigator and I am engaged on a case. I have found out Dr. Salzer is responsible for the murder of Eudora Drew. It’s too involved to go into now, but because of what I have found out I have been kidnapped.” I don’t know how I got those last words out. It sounded terrible, but to save my life I couldn’t have put it any better. A little spark of panic began to well up inside me as I saw the look of polite incredulity on Hopper’s face.
“Dr. Salzer?” he said, and gave his charming smile. “A murder? That’s interesting. And you are some sort of detective? Is that right?”
“Now, look,” I said, struggling up in bed. “I know what you are thinking. You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
“Of course not, Mr. Seabright,” he said gently. “I don’t think anything of the kind. I know you aren’t very well, but not crazy: definitely and certainly not.”
I licked my dry lips.
“You’re sure about that?”
“Of course.”
But I saw by the amused sly expression in the deep-set eyes that he was lying.