Mason lit a cigarette and said, “Go on.”
“I want to know what you know about it,” Hungerford said.
“Have you talked with Belle?”
“No. I can’t. They’re holding her in San Francisco.”
Mason met Hungerford’s anxious eyes. “All right,” he said. “Newberry was Moar. He was employed by the Products Refining Company.”
“Where did he get the money on which he was traveling?” Hungerford asked. “Do you know that?”
“He says he won it in a lottery,” Mason said.
“And was there a twenty-five thousand dollar shortage in the Products Refining Company?”
“Yes,” Mason said. “I believe that’s correct.
For several seconds Hungerford was silent. His eyes focused on the shelves of leather-backed law books. Then he once more met Mason’s eyes. “She told me,” he said, “that she’d see me at the Santa Anita Race Track. Apparently she intended to keep right on— well, traveling in my set.”