Lowry passed the gun over to the girl. She took up a position between me and the door.
“I’ll leave the door open,” Lowry said.
He looked the situation over, then nodded to the girl, and beat it through the door.
The girl sat there, the door half-open, the gun pointed at me. I could see the skin was white across her knuckles. “Don’t you make a move,” she said. “I believe I’d really like to pull the trigger, you filthy beast! And you looked so decent, too.”
I said, “I told you I didn’t have anything to do with that killing. It wasn’t a sex killing, anyway.”
“You had lipstick on your handkerchief.”
“She kissed me.”
“What were you doing in her bedroom?”
“Talking to her.”
“She wasn’t dressed.”