“Monsieur does not find that sufficient?”
Monsieur ignored the question, but his countenance testified eloquently that such was indeed the case.
“Just how did you happen to select a book in Mr. Ives’s library as a hiding place for this correspondence?”
“Because that is a good safe place, where every night he can look without anyone to watch.”
“What made you think that someone else might not take out that book to read?”
“That book? Stone on Commercial Paper, Volume III? Monsieur is pleased to jest!”
Monsieur, scowling unattractively at some openly diverted members of the press, changed his line of attack with some abruptness. “Miss Cordier, you know a man called Adolph Platz, do you not?”
Miss Cordier’s lashes flickered once—twice. “Of a certainty.”
“Did you see him in the afternoon of the nineteenth of June?”
“Yes.”