“He knows,” Emily Milicant said quickly. “Oh, Mr. Mason, this is awful... not that I didn’t expect it would happen some day. I’ve told him time and time again that he must quit associating with...”
“Forget all that stuff,” Mason interrupted roughly. “I don’t know how much time we have. Not much, I’m afraid. Milicant was your brother. Under the name of Conway, he’d been blackmailing Alden Leeds. You, Leeds, went up to John Milicant’s apartment last night. You were there at just about the time the murder must have been committed. The apartment was searched. It looks as though you’re the one who did the searching. Now, never mind lies, tears, or sentiment. Shoot fast and shoot clean.”
Leeds said, “I left there at nine-forty-five.”
“Guess again,” Mason said. “Private detectives were keeping the place under surveillance. You were clocked in at five minutes past ten and out at ten-sixteen.”
Emily Milicant, wiping tears from her eyes, said, quietly, “That’s right, Alden, it was ten-twenty-five when he called me and told me that you’d just left.”
Mason’s eyes bored steadily into hers. “He called you?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“On the telephone?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Where?”