It was an act of dismissal, but though Amberley rose he did not shake hands. Her hand fell; the laugh faded from her eyes she said abruptly: "Mr. Amberley."
"Well?"
"I seem to you a suspicious character. I must seem so; I quite realise that. But if I am, why don't you leave the police to deal with me?"
He shook his head. "I'm afraid you overrate our inspector's intelligence. He'd probably have had you hanged."
"You're acting for the police, aren't you? You needn't trouble to deny it; I know you are. And you still think I had something to do with that murder. Well…'
He interrupted. "And had you nothing to do with it, Miss Brown?"
She stared at him, the colour ebbing from her cheeks. "What do you mean?"
"What I say. You went to meet Dawson that night."
"No!"
"Don't lie. He had something that you wanted. And because of that he was murdered. You were too late on the scene, Miss Brown."