I got out.
“Ever see this guy before?”
The man who ran the parking station shook his head.
“What about Fulton’s car? Did you give him a check for it?”
“Not the regular tenants. We know them. They have stalls that are assigned to them by number and can come and go whenever they want to. They usually keep the cars locked. I don’t know whether Fulton kept his locked yesterday or not. It was the jane who got it.”
“The jane?” Sellers asked, surprised.
“That’s right. The one who was found in the cabin with him, I guess.”
“What did she look like?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see her too well — just a trim little package came bustling on in here as though she knew right where she was going, and evidently had the keys to the car. I watched her get in. The way she acted, fumbling around at the door for a minute, I felt certain she had the keys.”
“Why didn’t you say something to her?”