I said, “I think Evaline Harris was sent to Oakview by a man named John Harbet.”
Her eyes were veiled, without expression. “You mean Sergeant Harbet of the Vice Squad?”
“Yes.”
“What makes you think so?”
“He was in Oakview. He beat me up and dragged me out of town.”
“Why?”
“That,” I said, “is the thing I can’t figure. When I find out why he did what he did in the way he did, I think I’ll have a weapon we can use.”
She frowned thoughtfully. “It’s very hard on Charles. He’s almost frantic. He suppresses himself behind a mask of professional calm. I’m getting afraid of what may happen.”
I said, “Don’t worry about it. Leave that to me.”
Steps on the stairs again, and Dr. Alftmont came into the room with two letters. One of them was dated 1921 and was written on the stationery of the Bickmere Hotel in San Francisco. The other letter had been written two weeks before, and mailed from Los Angeles. Apparently both were in the same handwriting.