“And yet that was the way the killer had to come,” he pointed out patiently. “There is no other approach to Dead End except by that road. It’s odd, isn’t it, that you were within a quarter of an hour of Miss Arnot’s murder and yet you didn’t see anyone?”
She didn’t say anything, but her face went whiter and she looked anxiously towards the door as if hoping someone would come in and stop his questioning.
In spite of the growing conviction that she wasn’t telling the truth, Conrad felt sorry for her and he had to force himself to continue to badger her.
“When you talked with Miss Arnot, did she give you any idea that she was expecting someone?” he asked.
He could see the girl was growing tense, and her trembling increased.
“I don’t know anything about it,” she said in a tight small voice. “Please stop asking me questions. I — I’m not feeling well. I want to go home.”
“That’s all right, Miss Coleman,” he said and smiled. “I’m sorry to be a nuisance. You have some sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
“But I don’t want to!” she cried fiercely. “I want to be left alone. I don’t want to go to sleep! I want to go home!”
“I’m afraid you will have to stay here until tomorrow,” Conrad said as gently as he could. “One of the gunmen who tried to shoot you is still at large. We can’t let you go until he is caught.”
“But he wouldn’t hurt me,” she blurted out, sitting bolt upright. “He said he wouldn’t and I believe him. This is just an excuse to keep me here! I’m not going to stay! You can’t keep me here! You’ve no right to keep me here!” Her voice was rising hysterically, and Conrad got to his feet, a little alarmed at the wild trapped look in her eyes.