“No.”
“Why not?”
“He seemed — well, nervous and upset — and I couldn’t explain to him about Inez. I didn’t want him to know I was... there in the building.”
“So what did you do?”
“After he’d gone down in the elevator, I went to the Conway apartment.”
“Knock on the door?” Mason asked.
“The door was slightly ajar, an inch or so. I knocked on it. There was no answer. I pushed the door open, and called Conway’s name. He’d asked me never to call him Hogarty, and not to refer to him as Milicant while he was there in that apartment. There was still no answer. The apartment had been searched. Papers were scattered about. There were some empty dishes on the table. Evidently, two people had eaten a hurried dinner, and...
“Why hurried?” Mason asked.
“Because places weren’t set at the table. The plates were placed just as they’d been left, with the knives and forks dumped on the tray. There was a pot that had contained coffee on the tray and two saucers. The cups were dirty.”
“The dishes weren’t piled up?” Mason asked.