The lawyer left the room a few moments after the servant had gone. The hall was dark; he had purposely left it so. He and Cardona had agreed that too much illumination might worry the eccentric Middleton.
Blefken went by the little hall that led to the side door. Perhaps Middleton would ring at that entrance. It was not unlikely. People familiar with the house often came in that way. In fact, Cardona had come by that entrance tonight. So had Morgan and Carew.
Doctor Rossiter had rung at the front door. Perhaps his practice of making professional calls had brought him there from force of habit. Rossiter was Blefken’s family physician.
Minutes ticked by slowly for Joe Cardona after the lawyer had gone. Then, the patient detective heard the servant’s footsteps in the hall. He fancied that Stokes was on his way to the front door.
This speculation was correct. Two persons entered the room. Cardona did not risk peering from behind the chair. But he recognized the servant’s voice.
“Wait here, sir,” Stokes said. “I shall call Mr. Blefken immediately.
“All right,” came a low, nervous voice.
The tone impressed Cardona. The detective felt sure that this must be Jerry Middleton.
The servant was gone now — the newcomer was pacing the floor nervously. His heavy breathing showed that he was unquestionably perturbed. The silent sleuth sensed the situation.
He was glad now that he was here. Whatever Middleton’s purpose, it must be important.