“What made you notice him then?”
“Well, it was something about the way he was walking. He was a big man, and he was walking awfully fast, almost running. And he may have looked back over his shoulder. Anyway, there was something that made me think he was afraid, or something and he looked at me in the most peculiar way. It gave me the creeps.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
Her eyes, big, wide, and innocent, looked into mine. “Why, I’ve already told you, Mr. Ellis, because it was such a shock finding the body.”
“You might add something,” I said, “about the strain of being questioned.”
Her eyes smiled at me. “No.” she said. “He knows it’s not a strain.”
“Are you vamping him?”
She considered the coral tips of her fingers. “Well,” she said slowly, “he’s throwing a mantle of masculine protection about my shoulders, and I’m depending on him. He likes me, and I think he’s nice.”
I said, “All right. Your cab should be downstairs now. Wake me up as soon as you get back, and, no matter what happens, come straight back here. Make that interview just as short as you can.”
“I will,” she promised.