“I guess she’ll be in bed by now, but it’s worth while trying. Would you like to see her?”
Michael hesitated. Stella Mendoza was a friend of Penne’s, and he was loath to commit himself irretrievably to the view that Penne was the murderer.
“Yes, I think we’ll see her,” he said. “After all, Penne knows that he is suspected.”
Jack Knebworth was ten minutes on the telephone before he succeeded in getting a reply from Stella’s cottage.
“It’s Knebworth speaking, Miss Mendoza,” he said. “Is it possible to see you to-night? Mr. Brixan wants to speak to you.”
“At this hour of the night?” she said in sleepy surprise. “I was in bed when the bell rang. Won’t it do in the morning?”
“No, he wants to see you particularly to-night. I’ll come along with him if you don’t mind.”
“What is wrong?” she asked quickly. “Is it about Gregory?”
Jack whispered a query to the man who stood at his side, and Michael nodded.
“Yes, it is about Gregory,” said Knebworth.