With Briggs and Clink beside him, Bob produced a key and locked the cellar door. Then the two men followed Bob into the study.
“What next?” questioned Briggs.
“Nothing,” returned Bob. “I’ll hear from the Chief later. In the meantime, we’ll continue as usual.”
“I’m going to dope out a plan to account for the girl being away. That will be easy.”
“Maybe we should have held her,” replied Briggs uneasily. “Maybe the Chief won’t like it—”
“I’m running this!” interrupted Bob harshly. “You know how we work, Briggs. The girl’s just the same as Barker was — or Hodgson, or Harkness. When they’re dead, they don’t talk!”
“I know that,” agreed Briggs. “Still — you might call the Chief now—”
“I don’t call him from here,” declared Bob emphatically. “He calls me. That’s the present system. I won’t hear from him for another hour. By that time—”
“The girl will be dead,” Briggs concluded the sentence.
“Right! And the dead don’t talk!” There was a note of final decision in Bob’s voice. It sounded the doom of Betty Mandell.